


Compromised

by CelticKnot



Series: The Paths We Are Given [1]
Category: Mass Effect (Comics), Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Contemplated/Attempted Suicide, Gen, Murder, Spoken Aloud, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticKnot/pseuds/CelticKnot
Summary: The year: 2175. The players: Thane Krios, drell assassin, and Nakmor Drack, krogan mercenary. A pair of unlikely allies embark on a quest together: one seeking redemption; the other, revenge. As narrated by Drack to the crew of the Tempest.





	1. Prologue: Catachresis

"You want an _interesting_ story, huh? Then get comfortable. This one's gonna take a while."

Sara Ryder grinned as Drack leaned back in his chair, his eyes focusing on something far away that only he could see. He always had great tales to tell—she could think of few better ways to pass the time while the _Tempest_ was in drydock at the Nexus for repairs. And this bar, the Vortex, had become a favorite hangout for her crew. Good friends, good drinks, good conversation: they had all the makings of a well-deserved, if brief, vacation.

"Met this drell kid once, a decade or so before we left," the old krogan began. "Young—actually, he wasn't too much older'n you, Ryder—but I could tell he'd been around the block a few times. You can see it in their eyes, y'know? Anyway, I forget what he said his name was, but I knew it was a fake one right away."

Vetra's mandibles clicked in a turian version of a frown. "How did you know it was fake?" she asked.

"It meant something like 'one who hides in plain sight' in an old drell dialect," replied Drack with a shrug. "He didn't expect anyone to know that. He was funny that way: cold and calculating on the surface, but kind of sentimental and even a bit of a… a romantic, I guess, once you got to know him. Smart, too, for a young fellow. Put just enough truth in his cover story to make the lies convincing." He gave a toothy grin. "But I've been around long enough to know an assassin when I see one. Drell are well suited for it, and the hanar train 'em good."

Ryder whistled. "Wow, a drell assassin. I've heard stories."

"None of them exaggerated," Suvi agreed with a shudder.

"Whatever you've heard, he was better," Drack grunted. "Anyway, his real name was…" he hesitated, then chuckled at himself. "Hell, the guy's been dead for six hundred years. Doesn't matter if I use it now. His real name was Thane Krios."

Cora nearly choked on her drink. _"Krios?"_

"You knew him?" asked Liam, eyebrows raised.

"No, but I've heard of him. He's said to be the best assassin in the Milky Way. Valenza was something of a fan." She wiped her mouth, then set her glass down on the napkin. "She used to say that if Thane Krios was after you, you were at the top of the shit list of somebody important. But of course, you never knew he _was_ after you until it was too late. In fact, nobody—except his employers, presumably—could ever definitively tie him to any of his kills. I mean, it's not like he left a calling card or anything."

"Unless you consider a snapped neck a 'calling card,'" Drack interjected. "That seemed to be his favorite way to, heh-heh, take care of business."

Cora nodded. "Valenza said you could tell it was him if the kill was up-close and personal—and clean. His targets never suffered. But they were always the scum of the galaxy: murderers, gangbangers, drug dealers, slavers. Never anything petty or political." She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "There was a rumor that he was behind the One-Hour Massacre on Omega, too, but personally, I doubt it. That wasn't just messy—those batarians were tortured to death. Not Krios's style."

All eyes turned to Drack for confirmation. He took a long pull of his drink, and grimaced as he set down his tankard. Finally, he said softly, "No. That was him."

"And how, pray tell, do you know _that?"_ Peebee challenged, folding her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

"Because I was there."


	2. Conscience and Confidence

"Like I said, get comfortable.

"Let me start with a little background. I spent a couple o' decades freelancing for the hanar as hired muscle, mostly guarding shipments for the Illuminated Primacy's shadier deals—semi-legal arms trades, hostage exchanges, that kind of thing. Got to know some of the drell they kept around under the Compact, too. Almost fanatically loyal, those guys, let me tell you. But then, the hanar did save the drell from total extinction, so I guess that's worth a few centuries of gratitude.

"Anyway, one day I overhear one of my drell buddies talking about this batarian slaver ring out of Anhur that keeps raiding hanar colonies. (Why anybody would want hanar slaves is beyond me, but what do I know?) This guy is absolutely trembling with rage as he describes what the little four-eyed bastards are doing to their captives—I won't repeat it, but it was ugly—but his service to the Compact keeps him from going after them unless his hanar master tells him to. Still, he starts wondering out loud if it won't be easier to get forgiveness than permission. After all, the drell aren't slaves, themselves, right?

"But I've developed a bit of a soft spot for the jellies by this point, so I speak up. 'Look, kid,' I tell him, 'you try to take on those batarians by yourself, you're just gonna get yourself killed, or worse. Let me handle 'em.'

"He kind of splutters a bit, but he knows I'm right, so he relents.

"So when we get back to Kahje, I go to see Orander, my contact in the Primacy. We'd gotten to be pretty decent friends over the years. Not Soul Name-level friendship, but close enough that I could convince it to pull some strings for me. Orander had gotten me some good jobs in the past, so if anyone could authorize sending me after those batarian assholes, it could.

"So I tell it what I heard, and commiserate with it for a bit. It's not surprised by what I have to say. Seems these slavers have been a problem for a while now, but the Primacy was trying to keep it quiet. Didn't want to look weak, you understand. Yeah, Vetra, it sounded stupid to me, too.

"'Let me take care of these guys for you,' I offer. Like I said, I kind of like the hanar, and they'd been good to me, so it felt like the least I could do, you know? And besides, I love fighting batarians—they give you just enough resistance to make it a good workout, especially if there's a bunch of 'em and you get 'em good and mad, heh-heh-heh. And these ones, well, killing them would be a damn service to the galaxy. I didn't even ask for payment to do it.

"But it turns out they don't need me! 'This one appreciates your offer,' Orander says, 'but the matter is being handled.'

"'What do you mean, handled?' I ask, maybe a little stupidly.

"Orander looks around to make sure no one can hear us talking—or see, in its case—and leans in a little closer. 'This one is not supposed to share this information, so it hopes you can keep it confidential,' it says, real quietly. 'The Illuminated Primacy has contracted the services of an assassin released from the Compact several years ago. He is the only one they trust to complete this urgent and delicate mission with a minimum of… collateral damage.'

"By now, I've learned to read some of the subtleties in hanar bioluminescence, and I can tell Orander is worried about more than getting caught leaking classified intel. So I just nod and go on my way. I get it, you know. 'Minimum collateral damage' ain't exactly my strong suit. My idea of taking down those slavers would be to fight my way into the heart of their base, set a giant bomb, and run like hell. But there would be hanar prisoners there, and the Primacy wanted their people rescued, not blown to smithereens. If Orander's assassin friend could do the job better than me, well, there was other work out there better suited to my skills. No skin off my hump.

"Besides, if I was gonna be truly honest with myself at that point, I wasn't exactly in great fighting shape just then. I'm an old warrior, guys, a real old warrior. And you don't get to be a real old warrior without some scars. I've got so many prosthetic parts, sometimes I think the next doctor is just gonna put my brain in a jar and call it a day.

"Don't get any funny ideas, Lexi.

"Anyhow, my hip implant was acting up a little at the time. Not real bad, not enough to really limit my mobility or anything, just enough to be painful. Annoying, you know. It wasn't really designed to last for as many centuries as it had. I could get surgery to correct it if I could scrape up the credits, but it was an 'elective procedure,' so it was expensive. I still had to eat. Eh, I'm a tough old bastard, so I sucked it up and dealt with it, but it was a distraction sometimes. And I'd be damned if I was going down after fourteen hundred years of fighting because my damn hip flared up.

"So that's why, a couple of weeks later when an agent for the Shadow Broker contacted me on vidcom, I was willing to work with him.

"He's somehow hacked into my omni-tool remotely, so the call shows up as coming from my own extranet address. The face is human, but otherwise totally unremarkable—nothing about him stands out. Even a drell would be hard-pressed to remember this face. I'm not even entirely sure he's male.

"'It has come to the Shadow Broker's attention,' the guy says, and even his voice is ambiguous, 'that you may know something about the downfall of a group of Na'hesit slavers.'

"Of course, I'm more than a little suspicious, so I hedge my bets. 'The batarian scum that was trafficking in hanar? Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What's it worth to me?'

"He gives me this grin that's probably supposed to be predatory, that shows his teeth but never reaches his eyes. Obviously thinks he's intimidating. Maybe he is, to some, but I don't think he's dealt with many krogan before, heh-heh-heh. 'How about enough credits to get that malfunctioning hip prosthetic replaced?' he offers. 'Plus enough to upgrade some of the rest.'

"'Sounds a little too good to me,' I say. 'Whaddaya want for it?'

"'A name. The assassin who took out the slavers' leadership.'

"So I'm thinking, well, shit, I may be outta luck on this one. I don't have that information. But I do know a little, so I start to wonder if maybe he'll give me something for what intel I do have. And don't give me that look, Ryder—not until you're being offered the chance to walk without pain for the first time in decades! 'I don't know his name,' I tell the guy, 'but I know he's a drell. Used to work for the hanar under the Compact, but they let 'im go a while back. Freelance now, I guess. What's that worth to you?'

"'I need a _name,_ krogan,' he insists.

"His attitude is making me angry now, so I get cheeky. 'You can wire the creds to Nakmor Drack.'

"That makes him mad. 'The assassin's name, you idiot!'

"'I told you I don't know it,' I say. 'Now what about my credits?'

"'You'll get your credits when the Broker gets the name. Think about it, krogan. The Shadow Broker will remember this.' And he cuts off the call. Good riddance.

"Frustrating as that was, there wasn't really anything I could do about it. Couldn't trace the call, and the face on the screen was probably a computer overlay. I'd bet good money that even the voice was filtered. So I let it go.

"I didn't think about it again until I got an email a month or so later, from my own address. _'The information you provided proved vital in discovering the identity of the assassin the Shadow Broker sought,'_ it said. _'I could not have been acquired without your cooperation. Your reward, as promised, with the Broker's regards.'_ Attached was a transfer record for a hefty sum of credits into my account. Say what you will about the Shadow Broker, he's a man of his word. Or lady. Whatever.

"I had to laugh, though. That agent probably still thought I knew who the assassin actually was, and that I'd deliberately withheld his name to try and protect him. That message was probably supposed to scare me. Heh-heh-heh.

"I got my surgery, by the way. Should be good for another century or two. Probably won't have to worry about it too much longer than that.

"…Aw, it's okay, Suvi. A millennium and a half of adventure across two galaxies is about as full as a life can get. Besides, I'll probably still outlive you, yet!

"Anyway, I stopped working for the hanar after that. Guess I had a bit of a guilty conscience after all, betraying Orander's confidence like that. Though if I'd known at the time just how badly I'd fucked up… well, I wouldn't have much of a story to tell."

* * *

A brooding, uncomfortable silence fell.

Drack stared into his empty tankard, a mixture of shame and regret written on his face. His ryncol-spiked Lucky Leprechaun—the same brew that, even unaltered, had knocked Ryder on her ass—seemed only to have loosened his tongue. Perhaps more than he'd have liked.

Lexi patted his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Drack. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

That seemed to snap Drack out of his slightly inebriated funk. "Nah," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I've piqued your interest now, I can see it on your faces. Call it a cautionary tale for all you young pups." He stretched, stiff joints popping. "But this old man's gotta call it a night. Same time tomorrow?"

"Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel," Liam quipped, earning strange looks from around the table. He sighed dramatically. "Nobody appreciates the classics anymore."


	3. Competition and Compromise

Bright green liquid sloshed out of Drack's tankard as he plopped it on the table with a grin. "Bartender's a hoot," he chuckled as he sat. "I like him, even if he won't tell me what's in the drinks." He eyed his own curiously. "What's a 'leprechaun,' anyway?"

Ryder giggled. "A bit of old Earth folklore; Irish, to be specific. It's a sort of… mischievous spirit."

"Good enough name for a strong drink," Drack grunted. "So what makes this one 'lucky'?"

"I'm not sure," Ryder replied with a shrug. "I mean, I tried one and woke up a half hour later on the stage over there, so I guess you're lucky if you're still standing when you finish it?"

Roaring with laughter, Drack clapped her on the back, hard enough to cause her to nearly face-plant on the table. "You're cute, Ryder. I think I'll keep you around."

"Uh-oh, Jaal," Peebee teased with a wink. "Looks like you've got some competition!"

Jaal laughed heartily with everyone else—but wrapped a protective arm around Ryder's waist anyway, pulling her close. She leaned her head against his broad shoulder, relaxing into the warmth and solidity of him as everyone's attention turned back to Drack.

* * *

"All right, where was I?

"Oh, yeah. So I hightailed it away from Kahje; left the cluster altogether and started looking for work somewhere else. Anywhere else. Took some odd jobs for merc gangs, shook down some pirates here and there, but I was living pretty much hand-to-mouth for a while.

"Then eventually I get hired by this young turian salvager, name of Ilaria Rixus. She needs a bodyguard while she sells off her haul on Omega—seems there's this elcor, Harrot, who's set up shop there and is willing to do anything it takes to keep the market on lockdown, up to and including sending armed mercenaries after the competition. Ilaria's no slouch with a gun herself, but Harrot's well-established. Got the resources to make her life pretty miserable… and short.

"I figure it's easy money, so I take the job. First impression, I like her. And when Harrot gets wind of what she's doing, he sends batarian mercs after her, heh-heh-heh. I beat 'em up and send 'em back so the elcor knows what he's up against. It's fun; you know me.

"Trouble with elcor, though, is they're stubborn and don't know when to quit. Harrot would send more and more of his men after us every couple of days. I'd fend them off every time. At first, Ilaria didn't want me to kill them if I didn't have to—she was only staying long enough to sell what she had, and didn't think it was worth killing for. Kind of innocence Omega burns out of you in a hurry.

"But one day, she sees his guys come marching up to her stand, _again,_ and just gives this tired sigh. She opens up a case marked 'Not for Sale' and pulls out a shiny new Phaeston assault rifle, latest thing out of Cipritine Armory. Dunno how she got hold of one of those, but it sure was a beauty.

"'Fuck this,' she says. 'Let's take 'em out, Drack.'

"Between the two of us, it was a slaughter.

"Ilaria packed up and left after that. But not before she paid me every credit she'd promised, plus five percent of her profits. Ah, she was a good kid. I was amazed at how generous she was—until I did the math. She could afford to be generous; she'd made a killing.

"Heh. A killing.

"Anyway, that got me thinking: if there was really that much profit in salvage, maybe I should get in on it, too. Would you believe, in fourteen hundred years I'd never tried salvaging? So Ilaria told me about a recently abandoned outpost in Anhur that used to belong to a gang of batarian slavers.

"Yep, you guessed it, Kallo—same ones.

"Only reason she hadn't raided it herself, she said, was because the planet was on the verge of civil war over slavery, and she didn't want to get caught in a Na'hesit base when all hell inevitably broke loose. 'But I get the feeling youmight actually enjoy that,' she says with a wink. Heh-heh-heh. She knew me well.

"So I rented a small cargo shuttle with those extra credits and headed for the Eagle Nebula. I wasn't gonna take Ilaria's word entirely on faith, of course, but when I scanned the planet from orbit, I found the base exactly where she said it would be, hidden deep in a thick rainforest. It certainly seemed abandoned, but I went in armed, anyway. You know how scavengers can be, and there were Eclipse mercs running around the system, too. No telling what I might come up against down there. Heh-heh, I couldn't wait.

"Place is dead quiet when I get down there, though. Not a soul in the complex, so far as I can tell, but plenty of valuable salvage. It had obviously been evacuated in a hurry, and the ventilation filters had either clogged up or shut down, so there was a lot of yellow-green pollen all over everything—it was springtime in that part of the planet, and all the trees were in bloom. It was in the air, too, so thick it looked like smoke.

"I explore deeper into the base, tagging what I think I can sell as I go, and soon I notice a few places here and there where the pollen was recently disturbed. And I mean really recently—there were clean spots where someone had brushed it away, maybe to inspect a box or read a datapad. But with so much of it in the air, it had to have been minutes ago, or less.

"Which meant that someone was still there.

"I look down, and sure enough, there's footprints. But when I try to follow them, they just stop, as if whoever left them behind just vanished, like a ghost or something. Before I can figure that one out, though, I hear boots hit the ground behind me! I grab my shotgun and spin around, only to find the barrel of a pistol about a centimeter from my head.

"You'd've liked the guy's entrance, Liam. It was like a scene out of a jump-scare horror vid—except those make me laugh, and I wasn't laughing. His landing had kicked up a big cloud of pollen, so at first all I could see was the gun and a scaly green hand holding it, finger on the trigger. Then the air clears, and there's this drell there, just staring at me.

"Well, when I say 'just staring,' I mean he's not moving, might as well be a statue. But no statue has a look on its face like this guy did.

"Now, I've seen a lot of shit in fourteen centuries. And when you've seen as much death and loss and pain as I have, you get kind of numb to it. Doesn't mean you don't care exactly, just that it doesn't get to you like it used to. Nothing really scares me much anymore. So when I tell you the expression on that drell's face still crops up in my nightmares sometimes, I want you all to know exactly what that means.

"I don't usually get poetic like this, but there was murder in his eyes, no other way to put it. A kind of half-crazed desperation that didn't seem to care if I took him down with me. The rest of his face was just… cold. Grim, like… like death itself. The face of a man with nothing left to lose. Seen that before. But those eyes of his—I could live another fourteen hundred years and never forget those eyes. Especially knowing what I know now, knowing what I…

"Well, I'll get to that in a minute.

"So anyway, there we are, just staring at each other. I feel like I'm cookin' a grenade, but I'm too damn surprised to move. Like I said yesterday, I know an assassin when I see one, but if he's actually been gunnin' for me, I'm surprised I'm even seeing him at all. I wonder for a second if maybe he's new to the job, but that doesn't sit right. This guy was silent as a ghost until he dropped out of the ceiling—no rookie is that stealthy. Or that slick. That, and… he just doesn't carry himself like a rookie.

"Nah, this is a pro. So that's gotta mean I'm not his target; I just got in the way. If that's the case, I'm glad he's a pro, 'cause a rookie would've just shot me anway. Still doesn't mean he won't, though—whatever principles are holding him back seem dangerously close to breaking down.

"I keep my gun pointed at his gut, just in case, but I try to talk him down. 'I'm not the one you're after, assassin,' I say carefully. I'm layin' all my cards on the table here, tellin' him everything I know. I don't wanna give him any reason to be suspicious of me. 'Just a salvager lookin' for some creds.'

"He blinks both sets of eyelids, but otherwise doesn't budge. He doesn't speak, either, for a long moment, and I start to wonder if his translator is working. Then he says, so quiet I can hardly hear him, 'What do you know of my targets?' I can tell he's fighting to keep his voice calm.

"I just shrug. 'I know how guys like you operate. If I was your mark, I'd be dead.'

"But he still doesn't lower his gun. He narrows his eyes. 'How did you find this place?'

"'Like I said, lookin' for salvage,' I tell him. 'Got pointed this way by a turian girl I—' I stop as a realization hits me, and I get a sinking feeling. 'Aw, shit. Did Harrot send you?'

"'Harrot?' The drell blinks at me again, then finally relaxes. 'Who… no. I have no contract for your turian friend.' He holsters his pistol and introduces himself, using that fake name I can't remember.

"Just so he knows where we stand, I shrug and say, 'I'd hardly call crawling around in the ceiling "hiding in plain sight," but whatever, nice alias. I'm Drack, Clan Nakmor. And that's my real name.'

"The startled look on his face is priceless, heh-heh-heh. I can see him reevaluating me, realizing I'm smarter than he thought, trying to decide if I'm friend or foe.

"So I evaluate him right back. I peg his age at maybe thirtyish, if that. He's a little guy, wiry and not particularly tall, even for a drell. But it hadn't escaped me when he had his gun in my face that he'd charged biotic powers in his off hand. He had a weird-lookin' sniper rifle strapped to his back, too—I think it was an early prototype of the Incisor?—and I didn't doubt for moment that he was an expert in its use. Just as deadly at long range as he was at point-blank. There was something about this kid that was almost as intimidating as my old battlemaster was when I was young.

"The silence is starting to get uncomfortable, so I try to lighten things up a little. 'Ah, it's okay, I don't need to know your name,' I say. 'But who are you looking for, anyway? Ain't nobody else here but me.'

"That murderous look starts to come back to his eyes. This kid's on a mission, and he ain't messin' around. 'I'm looking for the batarian slavers that used to operate out of this base.'

"'"Used to" is the operative word, I think,' I tell him. 'Seems someone took 'em all out for you.'

"'Not all of them,' he says quietly.

"Me being the smartass I am, I make a big show of looking around the empty room. 'Looks like all of 'em to me.'

"But he just fixes me with this cold stare, waits a beat, and says, 'My contract was only for their leadership.'

"'…oh,' is all I can say.

"Then it hits me. 'Oh, _shit.'_ This is the assassin I helped the Shadow Broker identify! What're the odds, huh?

"Heh. I remember thinking something like, _At least I didn't get him killed._ If only it were that simple.

"Anyway, I swallow hard as his stare turns inquisitive. So much for cards on the table. I've already let too much slip—I sure as hell don't want him knowing what I've done. 'You, h, have a contract on the rest of 'em now?' I ask quickly. I just pray it doesn't come out as hopeful as it sounds to me.

"And he says, 'No.'

"That's it. Just, 'no.' Then again, I'm surprised he's told me this much—and truth be told, I think he is, too. 'Okay then,' I say. 'I'll just grab some of this junk and be on my way. Good luck with… whatever you're doing.'

"And even though every instinct I have is screaming at me not to, I turn my back on him. I want to show him I'm not afraid of him—even if that's not entirely true. It seems like the kind of gesture he'd at least understand, if not respect. Besides, at this point I just need to get gone before he asks too many more questions.

"Just when I think I'm in the clear, though, he stops me. 'Wait,' he commands, and I turn around. 'What do you know?'

"'I'm well over a thousand years old, kid,' I retort. 'I know lots of things.'

"He narrows those big eyes of his and glares at me. 'About the slavers, krogan.' His voice is cold.

"Come to think of it, I use that word a lot, describing him. At least at that first meeting.

"Anyway, even though by now I'm getting really sick of folks who won't even use my name demanding information from me, I decide maybe it's best to give him some of the truth after all. 'I worked for the hanar alongside some Compact drell not long ago,' I tell him. 'Heard these bastards were attacking hanar colonies. I offered to take care of 'em, but I was told it was "being handled."' I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. 'By you, I guess?'

"He nods, looking around. 'And yet you came here anyway, presumably to salvage their… junk.' _Presumably._ I didn't like that. But when he turns back to me, he looks more thoughtful than suspicious. 'A curious coincidence. But perhaps it is the will of Amonkira that we should encounter one another here.'

"That's one of the Old Gods of the drell. I think he was testing me, testing my story, to see if I'd really spent much time among his people. 'You mean the Lord of Hunters thinks we should help each other out?' I shoot back.

"His eyebrow ridge arches up, and I could swear he almost smiles. 'Indeed,' he says. 'I could use some assistance, and you need the credits. Do we have a deal?'

"I don't know what was thinking. Just a minute ago, all I wanted was to get as far away from this guy as possible. But maybe it was the creds, maybe it was the thought of a little adventure, or maybe I was just curious, too. 'What the hell?' I say. 'Sounds like fun.'"


	4. Cooperation and Coordination

“No, I didn’t go with Thane out of guilt. Remember, I didn’t know what had happened to him yet. Though maybe… maybe it was a bit of wanting to make sure nothing _did_ happen. Too little, too late, of course, but I wouldn’t find that out until later.

“I’ll _get_ there, Peebee. Just lemme tell the story.

“Anyway, before I knew it, we were on my ship headed for Zorya—he’d found some clue or other indicating the slavers had headed that way after evacuating the base on Anhur. ‘Gah, what is it with these guys and jungles?’ I gripe when he tells me where we’re going. ‘Nobody ever hides anywhere _dry_. It’s gonna take forever to get the sweat-stink outta my armor.’

“Thane just gives me a wry smile. ‘We are in agreement there. I, too, would prefer a more arid destination.’

“At first I can’t tell if he’s serious or just making a snide comment about my body odor. The latter would have surprised me—until I got to know him better, heh-heh-heh. But there was a look on his face that said otherwise. You’d probably have liked him, Jaal: he wore his heart on his sleeve, kind of like you. Course, he tried not to. Didn’t say much. But it was always written all over his face if you looked for it.

“‘On that subject, if I may ask a small favor,’ he continues, actually looking embarrassed, ‘though I’ve already commandeered your ship and her destination, I’d like access to the environmental controls as well. I have a medical condition which makes prolonged exposure to even moderate humidity levels… problematic.’

“‘Oh? And what’s that?’ I ask. ‘You’re not gonna get me sick, too, are you?’

“‘No.’ Thane keeps his voice carefully controlled, but I can see his jaw clench as he looks me square in the eye. ‘I recently learned I have developed the early stages of Kepral’s Syndrome. I… I trust you know what that is.’

“Y’know, Lexi, I think that’s the first time I ever heard you cuss.

“For the rest of you who aren’t doctors, Kepral’s Syndrome is a degenerative lung disease, only affects drell. Not contagious, but terminal. What it comes down to is, the more time they spend in humid environments, the less oxygen their lungs can process. It basically makes them slowly suffocate. Real slowly. Prognosis is usually something like ten years—which meant my new buddy Thane was gonna be staring down the barrel of that particular gun for a long, long time.

“I spent enough time on Kahje to have seen how Kepral’s ends, guys. It’s a real bad way to go.

“‘Shit. Yeah. I’m sorry to hear that, kid,’ I say, and I mean it.

“But all of a sudden, his face hardens, and he says something I’ll never forget: ‘Save your sympathies for someone who deserves them.’

“At this point, I think I’ve got him all figured out. He’s a religious man and an assassin—he probably thinks his disease is some kind of divine punishment for his sins, or whatever. It would certainly explain why he was so… cranky. Boy, was I ever wrong. But the theory fit the evidence, as you scientist types would say.

“There was still one puzzle piece missing, though, and anyway I wanted to change the subject. ‘You said you don’t have a contract on these guys we’re chasing. So why are you after them?’ I ask.

“Very deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine, he practically growls, ‘They… crossed me.’

“I glare at him, wondering what it’s gonna take to get a straight answer outta this guy. ‘That sounded like a warning, drell,’ I growl back. ‘Or a threat.’

“In response, he just holds that stare and says, ‘Perhaps.’ King of the enigmatic one-word answers, that one, heh-heh.

“I grin at him to try and break the tension. ‘And here I didn’t think we were gonna be friends. I like you.’

“He turns away, though not before I see something almost… sad, I guess, flash across his face. ‘One makes few friends in my line of work,’ he says quietly, more to himself than to me, I think.

“He kind of broods for the rest of the trip. The mass relay dumps us out in the Aquila system, then it’s a couple days at standard FTL into Faia to reach Zorya. But by the time we set down at the spaceport in Thun, he’s come up with a plan.

“The communications Thane found on Anhur suggested the slavers had come to Zorya for the Blue Suns’ protection. Now, the Suns ran security for pretty much everything on the planet, and Solem Dal’Serah, their leader, kept the gang’s headquarters in the capital city. The batarians had mentioned him specifically—not so surprising, since he was a batarian, too—so Thane had arranged a meeting. We were going to pose as… customers… and try to convince him to tell us where they went.

“‘I think I can be, heh-heh, _persuasive,’_ I laugh as we arm ourselves. I give my hammer a couple of swings to emphasize my point.

“But Thane just gives me this pained sort of look. ‘We need reliable information, Drack,’ he says. ‘Violence is rarely effective in acquiring that. Please follow my lead. I would prefer not to tangle with the Blue Suns unless they leave us no choice.’

“You know me. That’s frustrating. But this is his op; we do it his way. ‘Fine, I’ll make nice with the batarian,’ I grumble. I’m still hoping they give us a reason to fight, though.

“As soon as we step off the ship, the heat hits us like a wall. It’s not as hot as, say, Elaaden, but the humidity makes it more oppressive. It feels like we could swim in it, like we should be able to see steam in the air. Thane coughs once, and I can tell it’s hard for him to breathe. ‘You sure this is a good idea?’ I ask. ‘I can still shake ’em down for you.’

“‘No,’ he says, and I’m not sure whether that’s in response to the question or the offer. Maybe both. But he strides off toward the Blue Suns building, and all I can do is follow.

“A turian guard stops us at the door. ‘State your business,’ he says. He sounds bored.

“‘We are here to see Mr. Dal’Serah,’ Thane replies. ‘He is expecting us.’

“‘One moment,’ the turian says, and keys his radio. ‘Solem? Yeah, it’s me. There’s a drell and a krogan here to see you. They say they have an appointment? …Okay, I’ll send ’em up.’ He waves us toward the door and says, ‘Elevator’s on the right. Third floor.’

“‘My thanks,’ Thane says, earning a strange look from the guard, which he ignores.

“The inside of the building is climate-controlled, and even I find it easier to breathe. ‘Most mercs aren’t that polite, y’know,’ I tell him as we get in the elevator. ‘You’re gonna make ’em suspicious.’

“He just raises his eyebrow ridge at me, standing with his hands behind his back. ‘I was raised by the hanar from the age of six,’ he says, ‘a detail which fits the persona I intend to present to Dal’Serah. The more of our cover story is true, the easier it will be to maintain. Just let me do the talking.’

“I shrug. ‘You’re the boss, boss.’

“Dal’Serah’s office is big, wide open and well-lit. No place to take cover if we get in a firefight. But there’s only two people in the room besides us: a batarian, who must be Dal’Serah, sitting at the big desk, and a human standing beside him.

“‘So, you’re looking for those… _entrepreneurs_ who came through here from Anhur?’ Dal’Serah demands immediately. He doesn’t bother to introduce his friend. I assume the human is his bodyguard, just like I’m posing as Thane’s.

“‘Indeed, I am,’ Thane replies. ‘Are they still on Zorya?’

“Dal’Serah narrows all four eyes. ‘Why do you want to know?’

“Thane pauses thoughtfully. ‘They sold me some… defective merchandise,’ he says. ‘I want compensation.’

“The human scoffs and folds his arms, the fingers of his right hand brushing the pistol on his hip. ‘Hard to believe a drell would be buying what they were selling.’

“Stone cold, Thane says to him, ‘Some of my people view our debt to the hanar as paid, many times over, and we chafe under the continuing oppression of the Compact. I see it as serving a certain… poetic justice.’ You shoulda heard him—it was chilling. Makes me shudder just remembering it.

“The other two weren’t entirely convinced, though, I think. ‘You might be out of luck,’ Dal’Serah says. ‘All of their… _merchandise…_ is gone. Somebody sent an assassin after their leaders.’ He eyes Thane suspiciously. ‘A _drell_ assassin.’

“So I’m thinking, shit, they’re on to us. But Thane keeps his cool. ‘That is unsurprising. My people often serve as spies, assassins, and saboteurs under the Compact.’ His hands ball into fists. ‘I, myself, was stolen from my family at a young age for just such a purpose.’

“I had to hand it to him—he was a good actor. He’s just about trembling with righteous anger, and even I almost believe him. Dal’Serah and the human exchange a glance and a shrug, and then the human comes around the desk. ‘Allow me to finally introduce myself,’ he says. ‘Vido Santiago, founder and Co-Executive Officer of the Blue Suns.’ He extends his hand for Thane to shake. ‘I think I have the information you’re looking for.’

“‘For a price, of course,’ Thane says dryly. He hands Santiago a credit chit. ‘I trust this will suffice.’

“Santiago’s eyes widen when he sees just how much money he’s holding. ‘Uh, yeah, that’ll do just fine,’ he says with a grin. ‘Solem, get my friend here the itinerary and passenger manifest for the _Star of Khar’shan.’_

“Dal’Serah still looks doubtful, but he pulls a datapad out of the desk and hands it over. Thane glances over the document, then looks up at Santiago again, eyebrow ridge raised. ‘The Fortis system? Isn’t that turian space?’

“‘You got your information,’ Dal’Serah snarls. ‘What you do with it isn’t my problem.’

“Thane slowly turns his attention to the batarian, then just as slowly and very deliberately tilts his head to the right. ‘Of course,’ he says coolly. You should have seen the look on Dal’Serah’s face—he was this close to apoplectic, heh-heh-heh.

“For those of you who don’t know batarian body language, tilting your head to the right implies you think you’re better than the guy you’re looking at. And batarians being sensitive to social caste… well, as Liam here might say, Thane was throwing some serious shade. Did I get that right? Heh-heh, good.

“Anyway, Thane looks back at Santiago and says, ‘I believe that concludes our business here. Thank you.’

“The human is obviously trying not to laugh at his partner, but manages to hold it together. ‘A pleasure,’ he says.

“Thane bows, ever the gentleman, and we leave.

“‘Well, that was easier than I expected,’ I comment to Thane when we’re out of the door guard’s earshot.

“He nods, but then says, ‘We should leave the planet immediately.’

“‘Right,’ I reply. ‘This air can’t be good for you, can it?’

“Thane gives me a funny look. ‘It isn’t, but that’s not what I meant. That credit chit… was counterfeit.’

“‘Shit.’

“So we book it for my ship, moving as fast as we can without drawing attention to ourselves. But we’re too late, naturally. There’s Blue Suns posted at the landing pad. Upside to landing on a little backwater planet like Zorya: even in the capital city, there aren’t too many innocent bystanders hangin’ around.

“‘There they are!’ one of the Suns yells, and they open fire.

“Thane dives for cover. I charge in, yelling my clan’s battle-cry and letting the blood rage rise. A couple of bullets bounce off my armor, but I barely notice. I’m going for melee range—you guys know how I like to fight, heh-heh-heh. I get right up on this turian, so close he can’t get his gun on me.

“But before I can get my hammer around, there’s a splash of blue and the guy just falls over! I look back, and there’s Thane and his damn sniper rifle peeking out over a crate. He’s just taken out my target—and then he picks off another one that comes up behind me while I’m distracted. But before I can get too mad at him, three more of ’em come at me, and I finally get a chance to crush some skulls.

“We clear the pad pretty quick, but there’s more coming. ‘Behind you!’ I shout to Thane. He turns around and gestures, and the nearest guys go flying. Then we make a run for the ship and blast off from Zorya. Good riddance.”


	5. Complications and Confrontations

Cora frowned, folding her arms. “Counterfeit credits? From the way you’ve described Krios so far, that sounds… uncharacteristically reckless. And it really doesn’t jive with what Valenza used to say about him.”

“Maybe it was.” Drack drained the last of his third Lucky Leprechaun, then examined the inside of the tankard thoughtfully. “But love does funny things to a man. Makes him do things he normally wouldn’t. Take risks he probably shouldn’t.”

“Love?” asked Ryder, lifting her head from Jaal’s shoulder as his arm tightened around her waist. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected in this tale about Drack and his assassin friend, but a love story definitely wasn’t it.

“Yup. Turns out his story was more complicated than I knew,” Drack grunted. “I learned the first part of it on the way to Pietas.”

* * *

“My ship was barely a step above a shuttle, just big enough to have its own FTL drive. There’s pretty much no privacy on a ship that size; two people was about all she’d hold. Thane and I even had to share sleeping quarters. I usually sleep like the dead, so that didn’t bother me much. Don’t know if my snoring kept Thane awake, though, heh-heh-heh—he was too polite to say anything if it did.

“Anyway, we’re on our way back toward the Aquila mass relay when I wake up in the middle of the night. You know, call of nature. Part o’ gettin’ old. So I get up, and I notice Thane’s not in his bunk. I hear his voice coming from the cockpit as I make my way toward the head: he’s talking to someone on vidcom.

“‘I’m pleased to see you are well, Kaedi,’ Thane says. ‘How is Kolyat?’

“A female voice answers, and her tone is reproachful but gentle. ‘As well as can be expected, under the circumstances. He’s just lost his mother, Thane. He needs his father.’

“I didn’t intend to listen in, but I couldn’t help it at this point. Remember, up until now I didn’t even know his name. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might have a family.

“There’s a pause, then he says, ‘I cannot return, cannot rest until she is avenged. Surely… surely he understands that?’ Something in his voice, a bit of that near-suicidal desperation I’d seen on Anhur, makes me glad I can’t see his face.

“‘He’s just a boy!’ the female just about wails. ‘All he understands is that his mother is _dead_ and his father walked out on him! He’s confused and angry and… and…’ I can hear her start to cry. ‘You’re not the only one mourning her, Thane. Irikah was my _sister.’_

“‘I know, Kaedi, please—’

“Now she’s getting angry. ‘No, you don’t know!’ she cries. ‘You can’t know what Irikah and I shared. Who do you think she turned to, when you were “away on business,” Thane? Who do you think cared for Kolyat while she worked? Who do you think comforted her when she feared for your safety? Who do you think kept her company when the nights became so long and lonely she thought she might go mad? I saw everything you put her through. And now she’s _dead_ because of you.’

“He doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, his voice is hoarse. ‘Kaedi, please listen to me—’

“But she interrupts him again. ‘No, you listen to me, Thane Krios! I want you to think long and hard about what’s best for your son, do you understand me? Odom and I love him like our own. And if you can’t be here for him when he needs you most… maybe he should stay permanently with someone who can.’

“There’s silence after that, and it takes me a few seconds to realize she must have cut off the call. I duck into the head before Thane can come out and catch me eavesdropping. ‘Cause _that_ woulda been fun to explain. 

“By the time I get back to bed, he’s already back in his bunk. I can tell he’s not asleep—after a conversation like that, I can’t say as I blame him—but for the sake of sanity, we both pretend he is.

“I didn’t sleep another wink that night, either. It sounded like these slavers we were chasing had killed Thane’s wife, presumably in one of their raids, and he was out for revenge. I could get behind that, wanting to protect your family. If anybody ever went after my Kesh, you bet your ass I’d hunt them down and beat them into a bloody pulp. And most of you know, batarian slave raids can be brutal—it wasn’t real likely she’d been allowed a quick and merciful death. But what I didn’t understand was, why would Kaedi blame Thane? Because he wasn’t there to protect her? It felt off to me, somehow.

“He’s even quieter than usual in the morning. Once or twice, I catch his eyes glazin’ over, and I can tell that perfect drell memory is bringin’ something back to haunt him. Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore, and besides, I don’t want to play _too_ dumb. I go for casual. ‘You okay, Tha—’ I catch myself and fake a cough— ‘there?’

“Too late. He doesn’t turn to look at me, just goes real still. ‘Don’t play coy with me, Drack. It doesn’t suit you,’ he says, low and dangerous. ‘How much did you overhear last night?’

“Well, damn, I know he’ll be even madder if he figures out I’m lying, and I really don’t want to be stuck alone in a flying tin can with a pissed-off assassin—well, one that’s pissed off at me—but I just can’t bring myself to tell him I heard everything. ‘Not much,’ I say. ‘A female calling you “Thane Krios,” which I assume is your real name. Something about your son. That’s all.’ Now I’m nervous, because I know what anybody would assume who’d only overheard what I just said I did. I don’t want to do it, but I gotta keep up the charade if I don’t want him getting suspicious. So I shrug. ‘Didn’t know you had a family. She your wife?’

“That did it. Next thing I know, he’s right up in my face. He grabs me by the collar and takes advantage of my surprise to shove me against the bulkhead, and then there’s a knife between my eyes, the tip of it right at the edge of my head plate, a twitch away from drawing blood.

“It was probably pretty funny to look at, to be honest. I mean, I’m a good thirty-plus centimeters taller than this guy, and at least three times his weight. I could’ve thrown him across the room right then and there if I really thought he meant to hurt me. One look at his eyes, and I almost did.

“But despite the blade in my face, this highly skilled and coldly disciplined assassin I’d been traveling with this past week was gone. In his place was just… the embodiment of rage and grief.

“He just stands there like that for a long moment, glaring at me, his teeth bared in a snarl, his breathing all ragged. His hands are actually shaking. Finally, he hisses, _‘Do not presume to speak of my wife._ Or my son.’

“Now, normally, an outburst like that would have earned him a head-butt hard enough to put him on his ass, but it turns out he knows krogan social cues as well as batarian ones. He blinks once as he realizes what he’s doing, then the knife disappears under his jacket as he steps back and bows his head. It’s a show of… not submission, exactly, but he’s conceding the fight before it starts. ‘My apologies,’ he says. ‘These last months have been… difficult. I am not myself.’

“‘I get it, kid,’ I tell him. ‘I got a granddaughter I’d do anything for. In fact, she’s the only reason I’m still around.’

“He looks up at me in surprise as the significance of what I’m saying sinks in. It’s true, you know—when Kesh was born, I was going through a dark time that I might not otherwise have survived. ‘It seems… you and I may have some common ground in that regard, after all,’ Thane says softly, and sighs. ‘The woman I was speaking with last night was my sister-in-law. Two months ago, my wife… was killed.’

“I nod as if I’m just now putting it all together. ‘By these slavers we’re after.’

“‘Yes. Kaedi is taking care of Kolyat—my son—until I return. She loves him like her own, but she’s… quite displeased with me.’ He swallows hard and look away. ‘To answer your first question, Drack: no. Not remotely. But I hope, by completing my mission, to find some… closure.’

“‘You mean revenge,’ I say, and the indignant look he gives me almost makes me laugh. ‘You don’t gotta play it delicate with me, kid.’

“But I have something serious to add, too. ‘You do know it’s not gonna change anything, right?’ I ask. ‘Taking these guys out—no matter how much they deserve it—it ain’t gonna bring her back.’

“He glares at me. ‘I know. But Kolyat will not be safe until they have gone to the sea.’

 _“Gone to the sea._ That’s how drell talk about death, got something to do with their version of the afterlife. Yeah, Jaal, I guess it is kinda poetic. I first heard it back when I started working for the hanar, and I thought they were talkin’ about someone goin’ on vacation. Ended up in a coupla weird conversations about reincarnation before I figured that one out, heh-heh-heh.

“Anyway, that’s what I meant about him bein’ kind of a romantic. I’m not really sure that’s even the right word. But he had this… idealistic view of how things should be, and hung his hopes on it. Like he could make the impossible happen if he just believed hard enough. I wouldn’t call him naïve, exactly, but I don’t really know a better word, either. But I’m not about to say any of that to him. I just leave it at, ‘If you say so, kid.’”

* * *

“Oh, that poor little boy,” Lexi lamented. “How could Thane just leave him like that?”

“Easy,” snapped Liam. “Make sure those batarians don’t come back to finish the job. You do whatever it takes to protect your family.”

Kallo snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause gallivanting around the galaxy for months on end is a real good way to _protect_ someone back home,” he bit out sarcastically.

“What, you’d rather just sit around and wait for those bastards to come back? I don’t think so!” Vetra shot back. “He was totally right. Get out there and eliminate the threat.”

“It is better than living in fear,” Jaal agreed.

Suvi shook her head. “I don’t know about that. Kolyat would have needed his dad. At least for a while.”

“Then how much of a head start _would_ you give someone who attacked your family, Suvi?” Vetra countered. She turned to Ryder. “What about you, Pathfinder?”

Ryder blinked as she suddenly found all eyes fixed on her. Were they seriously expecting her to settle this thing? “Well,” she said slowly, “Right now, I’m inclined to agree with you, Vetra—sometimes the best defense is a good offense. If somebody came after Scott, or any of you, I’d hunt them to the ends of the universe.” She shrugged. “But you all can take care of yourselves, too. I’m not a parent, I don’t know. Maybe my perspective will change when I have kids of my own.”

There was a heartbeat of silence before the argument erupted around her again, boisterous and friendly. Ryder glanced over at Drack, and they shared a wink and a grin.


	6. Cruelty and Clemency

“Headed back to the Vortex, Ryder?”

At the sound of Gil’s voice, Ryder turned and greeted him with a grin and a wave. “Wouldn’t miss it. You coming?”

Gil shook his head regretfully. “Not tonight. I have to review and sign off on all the repairs.” He shrugged. “Chief engineer’s work is never done.”

“Aw, come on. Does it really have to be done tonight?” Ryder wheedled.

“If we don’t want to wind up a full day behind schedule… yeah. The Nexus techs are okay, but they don’t know the _Tempest_ like I do. She’s got quirks.” Gil gave her a wry smile. “Just make sure to fill me in on the next installment of _The Adventures of Drack and Thane_ , yeah?”

Ryder chuckled. “Sure thing, Gil. See ya later.”

Inside the Vortex, she stopped at the bar, feeling adventurous. “Got any new concoctions today, Dutch?” she asked cheerfully.

The cantankerous bartender gave a dramatic sigh. “Back for another round of _1,001 Batarian Nights?”_ he asked as he poured something pale blue and sweet-smelling. “Here. A ‘Scheherazade,’ in honor of your krogan friend’s never-ending story.”

Ryder couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, you could join us if you want to hear it.”

“No,” Dutch said wearily. “I’m afraid I still have to tend to my… ugh… _customers.”_

Shaking her head in amusement at his exaggerated ire, Ryder joined the rest of her crew at the table just as Drack picked up where he’d left off the night before.

* * *

“Okay. So, we pop out of the mass relay in the Fortis system in the Minos Wasteland, and I can see Thane’s starting to get twitchy as we approach Pietas. ‘You know they’re probably long gone from here, right?’ I ask.

“He just kind of raises his eyebrow ridge at me and says, ‘What makes you think that?’

“‘Well, the planet ain’t exactly habitable,’ I tell him. ‘Almost, though. Last I heard, the Turian Hierarchy and the Vol Protectorate were arguing over who gets to terraform it. For now, though, lots o’ smugglers, pirates, and general riffraff use the planet as a stopover where they can lay low and make some quick repairs. Nobody stays long.’

“That’s obviously not what he wants to hear. ‘Right now, it’s the only lead we have,’ he says through clenched teeth.

“All I can do is shrug. ‘Maybe we can pick up the trail again down there. But I guarantee you those Blue Suns guys sent word we were coming as soon as they figured out your credits were phony. Expect trouble, but not your slavers.’

“But we do a scan when we get into orbit, and it turns out the _Star of Khar’shan_ is still there! Color me surprised. She’s set down by a collection of prefab buildings that have accumulated over the years—seems they’ve become a sort of temporary base for the various lowlifes comin’ through the Wasteland. There’s one other ship there, too. No registry, o’ course, but she looks salarian.

“So we put down on the far side of the compound and suit up to go outside. Nothing crazy out there, just no oxygen in the atmosphere. But it gives us an excuse to hide our faces, so even if Santiago did alert the base we were coming, they won’t recognize us right away. I say as much to Thane.

“In response, he loads a thermal clip into his SMG. ‘It’s not exactly common for a drell and a krogan to be traveling together, Drack,’ he says pointedly.

“Heh-heh-heh. I guess I spent so much time working with drell for the hanar, I’d forgotten what an odd pair we made. ‘Hmph. You got a point there, kid,’ I grunt, and I grab my shotgun as well as my hammer.

“There’s nobody around when we step off the ship, which is weird. ‘They had to see us comin’ in,’ I say. ‘If it’s salarians, look out for an ambush. Don’t know where your batarians got to, though.’

“Thane nods, unreadable in his helmet. Creepy-ass thing, that helmet, black with big red eyes. I almost laugh at it. ‘The slavers are… unlikely to trouble us right away,’ he says, and there’s something strange in his voice that I can’t place. ‘But the salarians will utilize tech attacks. Keep an eye on your shields.’

“Of course, I’d probably fought more salarian mercs he ever would by the time his species was discovering steam power—I shoulda been the one giving _him_ tactical advice, heh-heh. But I know how hard it is for you short-lived species to wrap your minds around a thousand-plus-year lifespan, so I let that slide and just nod.

“And sure enough, just before we reach the doors of the compound, I hear Thane mutter tersely, _‘Contact!’_ and they jump us.

“Now, salarians ain’t that scary in small groups—oh, don’t go getting all offended, Kallo, you know it’s the truth—but there’s at least a dozen of ’em, comin’ at us from both sides. And some of ’em are heavily shielded, so Thane’s biotics are about useless against those ones ’til we can wear ’em down some. Didn’t seem to bother him too much, though. Remember that submachine gun I mentioned earlier? Heh-heh, he had a Tempest with a shredder mod. Rips through the first guy’s shields in about a half a second flat, then he hits him with a Warp so strong _I_ can feel the air bend. I don’t know if the cracking sound is armor breaking, or bones. Then he’s shootin’ at the next one before the first hits the ground. He’s dodging bullets and fireballs the whole time. They can barely touch him.

“Meantime, I’m takin’ on a bunch of ’em at once, bashin’ heads and throwin’ ’em into each other and generally havin’ a good time. A fireball goes sailing by my head, so I launch one right back. A merc goes down screaming. The rest of ’em start to panic—turns out I just toasted their leader, heh-heh-heh.

“Then one of the little bastards hits me with an Overload and my shields go down. That gets my attention, ’cause if he hits me again, it could short out some of my prosthetics and then I’ll be in real trouble. But next thing I know, the three guys taking cover behind a crate in front of me just start floatin’ up in the air, flailing and yelling. I glance over at Thane, and he’s got his fist in the air, glowing blue. I give him a nod and a grin, then whip out my shotgun, bam, bam, bam, and pick ’em off one by one like sitting pyjaks.

“The last of ’em surrendered after that. Spoilsports.

“I was gonna kill ’em anyway, but Thane stops me with a hand on my arm. There’s three left, huddled on the ground, and he crouches down in front of them. ‘Take whatever you want! Just don’t kill us!’ one of them whines.

“‘You think we’re here to rob you?’ Quick as a flash, Thane’s got that knife of his at the salarian’s throat. ‘What I want is information,’ he says. ‘And you will give it to me. Or else… well.’ He chuckles darkly. ‘I’m not responsible for my krogan friend here.’

“I give the merc a big grin with lots of teeth, and he actually whimpers, heh-heh-heh. Then I remember, damn, he can’t see my face in my helmet. He’s squealin’ ’cause Thane’s starting to draw blood with the tip of his dagger. Some big bad mercenary he was.

“Thane lets him squirm for a minute, just watching as that little trickle of green starts to roll down the blade. Finally, he says, ‘There is a batarian vessel moored at the other side of this complex. Where are the slavers who arrived on it?’

“The salarian’s eyes go wide, and he swallows hard. ‘They… they told me they’d kill me,’ he stutters.

“Thane just stares at him, and I’m amazed at how patient he is. If it were up to me, I’d’ve killed the little frogman as an example to his buddies. Betcha they’d’ve talked then. But Thane just waits him out, and he finally breaks down. ‘They’re not… they’re not here!’ he says. ‘They got word you were coming after them, and they booked passage on another ship. They left the planet days ago!’

“Thane doesn’t move, and of course I can’t see his face, but something changes. I’m not big on auras and all that mystical kinda bullshit, but it’s like the air around him darkens. Maybe it’s some subtle shift in body language, or maybe it’s a drell thing, I don’t know. It’s unsettling, even to me, and the three salarians all flinch in unison. ‘Where. Did. They. Go?” Thane growls.

“The salarian just cowers, shaking.

“I can see Thane’s patience wearing thin. ‘Their destination, salarian. And if you lie to me, if I lose them because of _you…_ I swear to Kalahira I will hunt you down and _you_ will pay for their crimes.’

 _“‘Ilium!’_ the merc practically screeches. ‘They went to Ilium. Please don’t kill me!’

“‘And the name of the ship?’ Thane demands.

“One of the other salarians answers when the first hesitates. _‘Rhekan’s Treasure,’_ he squeaks desperately. ‘They were going straight in to Nos Astra!’

“‘Please, it’s the truth, I swear!’ the first one begs.

“Thane pauses, and for a second I wonder if he’s gonna slit the guy’s throat anyway. It’s what I’d’ve done. But instead, he stands up and sheathes the dagger. Looking down at the salarians still groveling on the ground, he says coldly, ‘You may wish to find another line of work.’ He turns his back on them. ‘Let’s go, Drack. We’ll refuel and resupply while we’re in what passes for port on this forsaken little planet, then onward to Ilium. It would seem our chase continues.’

“As we lift off, I can’t resist poking at him a little. ‘So I thought violence wasn’t “effective” in getting information,’ I say.

“‘And I thought that in a thousand years, you had learned “lots of things,”’ he fires back, fixing me with this withering glare. ‘It seems exceptions must be made to both claims.’ But there’s a twinkle in his eye as he says it, and I laugh. Absolute deadpan sense of humor, that one.

“‘But I have a serious question for you,’ I say. ‘Why leave those salarians alive?’

“He raises his eyebrow ridge in what I’ve come to think of as his _Drack, you idiot_ face. ‘Why kill them?’ he counters.

“‘They’re a loose end,’ I tell him, a little surprised that I have to. ‘They know where we’re going and what we’re doing. They know roughly who we are and what ship we’re flying. I would think a badass assassin like you would want to tie off that kind of… loose end.’ 

“Thane shakes his head. ‘No. They won’t trouble us further. Trust me, if I thought they might, I _would_ have killed them. But those salarians fear us now.’ All the humor is gone from his face, and there’s a chill in his voice. ‘They’re too afraid to come after us directly. And they haven’t the… temerity to do so indirectly.’

“‘Whaddaya mean, indirectly?’ I ask. ‘Sounds like a story.’

“He just studies me for a moment, considering. ‘It is, and a sordid one,’ he says slowly. ‘Perhaps I’ll tell you one day. For now, suffice it to say that I believe no innocent lives to be in danger.’

“My curiosity’s piqued now for sure, but by now I know better than to ask.”


	7. Contacts and Companionship

“So, I don’t know if any of you have ever been to Nos Astra. Lots of people say it’s beautiful—I don’t know, krogan standards of beauty are a little different than most. It’s all skyscrapers, lots of glass reflecting the sky, all shades of purple and blue. Asari architecture, you know, all sleek and graceful. But there’s a distinct sense, if you’ve been around a while like me, that all the glitz and glamor is just a veneer of civilization. Like its seedy underbelly isn’t far below the surface. Nos Astra is like… if Omega got dressed up formal. You don’t watch your step there, you’ll get eaten alive.

“Nah, that’s just a figure o’ speech, Jaal. Nobody in Nos Astra would actually—heh-heh, _most_ people in Nos Astra wouldn’t actually eat a sentient being.

“Illium’s an asari colony, though, so at least the people are easy on the eyes. And there’s plenty of people. Fortunately, we’re not the only aliens there—I spot a couple of volus, a human or two, and even another krogan—so we don’t stand out too much.

“Nos Astra is the economic hub for the entire sector, and the spaceport opens right out onto the trading floor. There’s stock market kiosks, stuff for sale at booths, and big displays with constantly updating currency exchange rates, market trends, and a whole bunch of other stuff I don’t really understand. All of it run by asari merchants who look ready to take you for every credit you’ve got, negotiating cutthroat deals with those serene damn smiles. I hate it. I’d rather have a straight fight than all this… fake friendliness. It sets my teeth on edge.

“But Thane ignores it all. There’s a little suite of offices above the trading floor, and soon I realize that’s where he’s headed as we weave through the crowd. ‘We meeting someone?’ I ask him.

“Thane nods. ‘A regular contact of mine,’ he says. ‘An information broker by the name of Deena T’Neri. She keeps track of everyone and everything coming through Nos Astra—if our quarry was here, she can tell us where to find them.’

“I’m doubtful. After my experience with the Shadow Broker, I’m a little wary of those kind of folks. But I bite my tongue so I don’t say anything that might make Thane suspicious. Even if I was ready to come clean, the Nos Astra trading floor sure wouldn’t be the place to do it.

“Thane must have seen something in my face, though, because he says, ‘I have known Deena for many years. We can trust her.’

“Turns out, she’s expecting us, of course. When we get to the top of the stairs, her secretary greets Thane by name and sends us straight on in to her office.

“Deena T’Neri’s an asari matron, about five hundred years old. Colorful thing, too, with white facial markings, purple eyes, and wearing an orange and white dress. She seems genuinely cheerful, and definitely happy to see Thane. She stands up as we come in. ‘Sere Krios,’ she says warmly. ‘It was such a pleasant surprise to learn of your arrival in Nos Astra. It’s good to see you again.’

“Thane bows politely. ‘And you, Ms. T’Neri. You are well?’

“‘I am, thank you,’ she says. Then she looks at me and asks Thane, ‘Who’s your friend?’

“‘I’m Drack, Clan Nakmor,’ I say politely. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Peebee. I can be polite when I need to be!

“Deena smiles at me. ‘You as well, Drack.’ She tilts her head thoughtfully and continues, ‘You know, I’ve worked with Thane many times over the past decade or so, and he has always worked alone. There must be something quite special about you.’

“If krogan could blush, I would have. She doesn’t give me time to respond to that, though, instead turning back to Thane. ‘But it’s been a long time since you last darkened my door, Thane. What have you been up to? How is your family?’

“…Yeah, I think I had just about that same look on my face, Ryder. Thane struggles to keep his neutral, and he doesn’t answer right away. Deena’s smile starts to fade as she realizes something’s wrong, and those bright purple eyes of hers go wide.

“When Thane finally answers, his voice is strained. ‘Kolyat is… well,’ he says, ‘but Irikah…’ He closes his eyes and bows his head, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘Irikah has gone to the sea.’

“Deena gasps and covers her mouth. ‘Oh, Goddess. I’m so sorry, Thane.’ She reaches out and takes his hands with both of her own. ‘May she rest in Kalahira’s embrace.’

“‘Thank you,’ Thane says stiffly, and when he looks back up at her, that impassive mask has settled over his face again. ‘But I’m afraid this isn’t a social call.’

“‘Ah, of course.’ Deena’s suddenly all business as she goes around behind her big desk and sits down, opening up a computer terminal. I think she’s grateful for the change of subject. I know I am. ‘What can I do for you?’

“Thane straightens up and tucks his hands behind his back. ‘A ship came through here recently, the _Rhekan’s Treasure,’_ he says. ‘There was a group of batarians aboard, perhaps a dozen of them. The remnants of a slaver gang. I need to know where they are.’

“Deena pouts playfully. It’s cute. ‘Oh, and here I thought you’d have a tough one for me.’ Her fingers fly over the keyboard—it’s freakish how fast you humans and asari can type. So many tiny little fingers. Anyway, after a few seconds, she stops typing and frowns. ‘Yes, I remember,’ she says. _‘Rhekan’s Treasure_ arrived in Nos Astra five days ago, but there were only three batarians aboard: Hakar Shorek, Karn Forel, and Nilak Dal’Gar.’

“‘Not much of a gang left,’ I comment.

“But Thane is angry, I can tell. ‘What happened to the rest of them?’ he demands.

“Deena arches her eyebrows at him. ‘A moment,’ she says, with that same tone my mother used to use on me when I was an insolent whelp testing her patience. Heh-heh-heh. A few more seconds of typing, and she shakes her head. ‘As I thought. No other batarians have come through Nos Astra in the past six months. Few do.’

“Of course, six months goes back way before our chase began. ‘Maybe they split up on Pietas,’ I suggest. ‘Left on different ships.’

“‘You followed them from Pietas?’ says Deena. ‘Then however you’ve managed to track Shorek and his associates here, I’m afraid you’ve lost the others. There is no port authority on Pietas to keep records or maintain communications; that’s why it attracts so many… unsavory people. Even my records indicate _Rhekan’s Treasure_ came here directly from Omega.’”

* * *

“Wait a second,” Liam interjected with a frown. “So Pietas is a total blind spot, even for this info broker, but the Blue Suns were able to point you right at it?”

“That doesn’t add up,” Vetra agreed, folding her arms.

Drack grunted and shook his head. “Santiago probably sold them the coordinates himself, I don’t know,” he said grumpily. “The Suns were the type of organization that could make use of a place like that, but they’d also sell it—or sell it out—in a heartbeat for enough credits.” He fixed Liam with an annoyed glare. “Ya done pickin’ apart the plot, now?”

Liam held up his hands in surrender, and Drack took another gulp of his drink before continuing.

* * *

“So anyway, I turn to Thane and say, ‘Your choice, kid. Do we go after these three, or head back to Pietas and… _interrogate_ those salarians again?’

“But he knows as well as I do that there’s really no choice at all—he’s not gonna give up his only real lead to go chase a maybe. He looks at me for a long moment, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Then he finally says to Deena, ‘Where did they go from here?’

“More typing. ‘They spent a few days in the Saefos Valley here on Ilium,’ she says, ‘then departed for Pragia early yesterday morning.’

“‘Yesterday? We’re catchin’ up!’ I tell Thane with a grin.

“His face stays grim, but there’s fire in his eyes. ‘That is excellent news, Deena,’ he says, and hands her a credit chit. ‘You have my thanks.’

“Deena looks at the chit, then back up at Thane with amazement. ‘This is more than twice my usual fee!’

“‘And every credit earned,’ he replies solemnly. He bows and goes to leave, but she stops him.

“‘Thane.’ She stands up and comes back around the desk to take his hands again. ‘This isn’t just another contract, is it? This is personal.’ He doesn’t answer, and her eyes search his. ‘They killed Irikah, didn’t they?’

“Thane stays stubbornly silent. I don’t know if he can’t speak, or just won’t.

“But that’s all Deena needs to see, and suddenly her whole posture is one of righteous anger. ‘Destroy them, Thane,’ she says fiercely. ‘Make them pay, blood for blood.’

“‘Believe me, Deena, I intend to,’ he answers, and his voice is rough. He pulls his hands free of hers. ‘Thank you, again.’

“He leaves her office and I start to follow him, but Deena grabs my arm. ‘May I have a word, Drack?’ she asks. ‘In private?’

“Thane turns back to me. ‘I’ll meet you back at the ship,’ he says with a nod, and disappears down the stairs.

“When he’s out of earshot, Deena looks at me with a very serious expression and says, ‘Look out for him, will you?’

“I just laugh. ‘Heh-heh-heh. You haven’t seen him fight, have you? The kid can take care of himself, don’t worry.’

“But she shakes her head. ‘That’s not what I meant. I’ve known Thane for eleven years, Drack, and I’ve never seen him like this. What I see when I look in his eyes—it frightens me.’ She wrings her hands nervously. ‘Just don’t let him do anything… rash. Please.’

“I just blink at her as I realize what she’s asking. ‘You want _me_ to be the voice of reason?’ I ask incredulously. ‘Look, lady, I’m a simple guy, even for a krogan. Thane hired me for my gun and my ship. I don’t…’ But then I remember the look on his face when we first met—that look that didn’t particularly care if he lived or died. Changed my tune real quick. ‘…Yeah. Okay.’

“‘Remind him that his son still needs him,’ she says. ‘Not that he’d ever truly forget, but… he may need to hear it, from time to time. When it gets bad.’ Her eyes search mine the way they’d searched his.  It’s eerie. There’s something about asari, makes them seem wise beyond even their years. And then, I don’t know what she sees, or thinks she sees, but she says, ‘He may have hired you for your stout arm, Drack, but he needs you for your stout heart.’

“So, yeah, it’s a quiet ride out to Saefos Valley. I can’t get Deena’s words out of my head. Never really been a ‘moral support’ kinda guy—if Thane gets any crazy desperate ideas, I don’t know if I can talk him down. But damn if I haven’t started to care about this kid.”


	8. Confusion and Confirmation

“The skycar we take out to Saefos is on autopilot. That’s an expensive cab system to maintain, though with the number of shady buiness deals going down on Illium, they probably figure it’s worth it for their customers to have the privacy. I’m sure glad for it, and I think Thane is, too. Not that he’s any more talkative than ever. He just sits there, lost in thought, turning something over and over in his hand. It’s a coin—not a credit chit, an actual gold coin, gotta date back to before the drell made first contact. Nothin’ but sentimental value anymore, of course. It kind of surprises me to see. Drell don’t usually carry mementos or reminders; with their perfect memories, they don’t need ’em. I almost ask him about it, but I decide against it and hold my tongue.

“Eventually, though, I can’t take the silence anymore. ‘So why aren’t we going straight on to Pragia?’ I ask him. ‘What do you think we’ll find in Saefos Valley?’

“‘Information,’ he says simply, and I can tell he’s distracted.

“I’m a little confused. ‘Whaddaya mean, information?’ I demand. ‘We know where they went. And the longer we hang around on Illium, the bigger their lead gets.’

“He doesn’t answer right away, and I realize he’s not looking at me anymore. His eyes are unfocused and glassy, and his jaw is clenched so hard I wonder if he’s gonna break teeth. I’ve seen drell do that before, when they’re trying not to get lost in an unpleasant memory. ‘It’s not enough just to eliminate them,’ he says with difficulty. ‘I need to know why they targeted _her_. They didn’t… it was…’

“And just like that, he loses the fight. _‘There’s blood splattered on the walls, the floor,’_ he half whispers. _‘I squeeze my eyes shut; I can’t look, but I must. Gritting my teeth, I_ force _myself to look. To see Irikah, my wife, my angel, my_ siha, _her broken body flung twisted in a heap like a discarded doll. Her sunset-colored eyes at once empty and accusing. I fall to my knees and cover my face, but the image is forever burned into my mind._

 _“‘A part of me can’t help but analyze the scene. This was no random act of violence; it was a targeted hit. She was tortured, brutalized, violated in ways I cannot force myself to comprehend. Deliberately kept alive long enough to—’_ His voice breaks, and he seems to drag himself back to reality. When he meets my eyes again, there’s tears on his face and he’s shaking.

“‘Oh, shit,’ is all I can say.

“You guys gotta realize what’s going on at this point. Thane wasn’t always great at hiding what he was feeling, especially when it came to his family, but he always put up an effort. And I could respect that. Touchy-feely stuff ain’t exactly my forte. He kept his distance, and that was fine by me.

“But what I hadn’t realized was how _much_ of an effort that took on his part. I mean, yeah, I’d seen him in some kinda vulnerable moments before, but he’d never let his defenses down completely like this. It was my first look at how much of a wreck the poor kid really was. And seriously, can you blame him?

“‘My apologies,’ he says hoarsely, and the coin disappears into his pocket as he tries to pull himself together. ‘Such memories can come unbidden, and are often… difficult to control.’

“‘You don’t gotta explain yourself to me, kid,’ I say.

“Finally, the skycar drops us off at the address Deena pointed us to, and I have to admit I’m glad to have an excuse to end _that_ conversation. The place is an apartment complex, one of those vacation places—you know, the ones you rent by the week? And they’d left a few days early, so it hadn’t been cleaned yet. Lucky for us.

“Hacking the door lock was as easy as getting a pyjak to piss. Which reminds me, Ryder: the next time Gizzard—”

“Gizmo!”

“Whatever. The next time I catch that little beast of yours in my galley, he’ll be on the menu, we clear? And that goes double for the rodent.

“Anyway, we get in, and it’s clear they left in a hurry. Either that, or they’re just the kind of assholes that figure the cleaning staff’ll take care o’ their shit. Place is a mess. Furniture’s all askew, trash everywhere, takeout containers all over the table—and it’s batarian food, of course, so it stinks—and there’s even a hole in the wall like somebody punched it. Little bit of blood there, too. Heh-heh, four-eyed bastard hurt himself hittin’ a wall.

“Thane spots a computer terminal and tries to access it. After a few seconds, he makes a frustrated noise and turns to me. ‘How good a hacker are you, Drack?’

“I shrug. ‘Nothing special, but I know some back doors. Why?’

“‘They left an email program open, but they’ve locked out the terminal,’ he says. ‘I need you to recover whatever correspondence they sent or received. Can you do that?’

“‘Heh-heh. Kid stuff,’ I reply. ‘Lemme see.’

“Thane steps back from the terminal to let me work. ‘Child’s play it may seem to you, but the intricacies of computer code have always eluded me.’ He pauses, then says, ‘I’m glad you’re here, Drack,’ and I suspect he’s talking about more than my tech skills.

“I just laugh. ‘It’s what you’re payin’ me for, kid.’ But I’m still thinkin’ about what Deena said, and about that flashback he had on the way here. And… it kinds makes me glad I’m here too, for his sake. Hadn’t felt that way about anyone but Kesh in a long, long time. Protective, y’know.

“In a few minutes, I’m in the system and I’ve recovered a bunch of deleted emails. ‘Got it!’ I say. ‘Take a look at this, Thane. Might be the evidence you’re lookin’ for.’ I step aside to let him see.

“He leans over the terminal, and I read the email over his shoulder. _‘Shorek—We got a problem. The guy you’re looking for is Thane fucking Krios. We go after him and we’re all dead. Had to go to the Shadow Broker himself to get the intel, so we’re out a shitload of creds, too.’_

“My first thought? That’s damn near hilarious. ‘Heh-heh-heh. _“We go after him and we’re all dead.”_ They’re scared of you, kid. Good job.’

“But he’s not amused by that at all. ‘The Shadow Broker… They got my name from the Shadow Broker?’ He looks up at me, eyes wide and confused. ‘That… shouldn’t be possible. How…?’

“No way am I gonna tell him how the Shadow Broker was able to ID him. Not right now, anyway. So I swallow the guilt and try to play it casual. ‘The Broker probably knows a lot of things people think he shouldn’t,’ I say.

“Thane just glares at me. ‘I _know_ that,’ he growls. ‘That’s why I take precautions. Why the Primacy took precautions when they hired me for that job. The only person who knew it was me was my old handler, and Orander would never have sold me out. Ever.’

“Orander. The hanar who’d leaked the info to me in the first place. ‘Maybe he didn’t,’ I venture before I can stop myself. ‘Maybe he just got too trusting with someone he shouldn’t.’ Which is way too close to the truth. Well, it is the truth. Some of it, anyway.

“There’s a long silence while Thane studies me with narrowed eyes. Like he’s trying to decide if I know more than I’m saying. I do my best to look innocent, but my hearts are pounding. Finally, he looks down and says, softly and sadly, ‘Perhaps.’

“He turns back to the terminal, and we read the rest of the message.

_“‘Did find out he’s got a family, though. Wife and kid—leaves them alone on Kahje for weeks on end. Hit them while he’s gone. That’ll teach him to fuck with us.’_

“Thane looks vaguely sick. ‘I feared as much,’ he says, his voice shaky. ‘They killed her to get to me.’ He looks up at me again, and his face is so full of anger and pain it’s hard not to turn away. ‘I tried so hard to keep them safe. To keep my identity a secret, to leave no witnesses. No way for anyone we didn’t know to link them to me. I didn’t even tell them where I was when I was away from home. And yet… I failed to protect them.’

“And that, guys—that’s when the full weight of my fuck-up hit me. Remember, the Broker wouldn’t have found his name at all without the information _I’d_ given him. His wife had gotten horribly murdered ’cause of _me._ And it kills me a little to see him shouldering the blame himself.

“‘It wasn’t your fault, Thane,’ I tell him. ‘The kind of sick bastards who would go after innocent—’

“‘Drack,’ he interrupts, wearily and so soft I almost don’t hear him, ‘stop. Please.’ He takes a deep breath and lets it out slow, then puts his hand on his chest and clears his throat. ‘Let’s see what else is here.’

“There’s another email, but the sender’s extranet address is encrypted and I can’t unlock it. The text is plain as day, though. _‘Shorek—Credits. Now. You still owe me half for the Kahje job, and I’m raising the price ten percent. You said the bitch was a scientist, you didn’t say she could fight. She cut my fucking face. —SK.’_

“And the reply: _‘The contract was for her and the kid. Half the job, half the money. And assassins don’t get hazard pay. —HS.’_

“So there’s another player in this game. I look over at Thane to check if he’s okay. Well, I know he’s not, but… eh, you know what I mean. Anyway, he’s got his eyes closed and his head bowed, like it’s taking everything he’s got just to not go completely to pieces. I want to cheer him up some, but the best I can offer is, ‘Sounds like your boy got lucky.’ It’s lame, and I know it.

“Without moving, Thane chuckles darkly. ‘Irikah saved him,’ he says, his voice rough. ‘She hid him in a closet and told him to stay there no matter what he heard. But when it was over, he… he tried to wake her. That’s what I found when I came home: my wife dead on the floor, and my son covered in her blood, reciting memories of her screams.’ He glares up at me. ‘No, Drack, he wasn’t _lucky.’_

“Now it’s my turn to feel sick. ‘I’m sorry, kid, I—’

“‘Drack,’ he snarls. ‘Shut. Up.’

“Yeah, Cora, I think I was as surprised by that as you are. It was out of character for him, definitely. But it sure had the desired effect, heh-heh-heh. I’m shocked into silence, and that gives him a minute to get a grip.

“Finally, he straightens and his face is like stone. ‘There’s another piece to the puzzle now,’ he says. ‘We need to find out who this assassin is. That information will likely have to come from Shorek himself, or one of his associates. I may require your assistance with the… _interrogation.’_

“I bare my teeth. ‘I’ve seen you in action, kid. Doubt you’ll really _need_ me. But, you want me to scare the shit outta some batarians, I’m in.’

“‘I plan to do far more than scare them, Drack,’ he growls. ‘They will pay for everything they did to her. And when I find this assassin…’

“He doesn’t finish that sentence. He doesn’t need to. ‘I’m with you to the end of this, Thane,’ I say. ‘Whatever you gotta do, I’m with you.’ Deena’s words echo in my mind: _He may need to hear it._ So I add, ‘We’ll get you home to your son.’

“The look he gives me is strange—and uncomfortable.”


	9. Con and Contradiction

“I download all the recovered emails to my omni-tool and forward them to Thane’s, and we spend the ride back to Nos Astra reading them over. They go from a few months back all the way to yesterday, and we’re able to get a pretty good idea of what these guys’ve been up to.

“Turns out, after Thane killed their leaders, Shorek and his two cronies stepped up to fill the void. They had the gang scatter, hoping to throw off anyone who might still be after them. It was Shorek we’d tracked to Zorya, and he’d paid the Blue Suns to falsify the passenger manifest on the _Star of Khar’shan_ to make it look like the whole gang was traveling together. They’d gone to Pragia to regroup, then they were going on to Omega.

“‘We need to head them off at Pragia,’ Thane says. ‘It will complicate things if they are allowed to reach Omega.’

“I nod. ‘Too many witnesses.’

“He fixes me with that unsettling cold stare of his and says, ‘Indeed.’

“The mass relay connections take us through a couple different clusters before we finally reach the Dakka system in the Nubian Expanse. We put down near the coordinates Shorek gave his men.

“Now, at this point, it’s been a few centuries since I’d been to Pragia. Kind of like Pietas, mercs and pirates liked to use the planet as a sort of discreet rest stop since it was mostly uninhabited and out of the way. And again with the jungles—I swear, there’s just something about jungles that draws mercs like flies. Blech. Last I was there, though, there wasn’t really anything special about Pragia itself.

“But I remembered hearing, about two hundred years ago, about a failed colonization effort by the Batarian Hegemony, where they brought these deliberately mutated crops they hoped to feed their whole empire with. Well, it turned out those plants liked Pragia so much, they went crazy. Grew totally out of control, overran the whole colony. Forced the batarians off the planet, and the Hegemony abandoned the whole project. So it was a very changed world I found myself on when we stepped off the ship.

“‘Damn,’ I mutter, looking around. ‘You can actually see the plants growing. Careful, some of ’em’ll eat you.’

“‘Noted,’ says Thane dryly. ‘And it seems we’ll need to do this quickly, before our ship becomes ensnared.’

“I grunt. ‘That, too.’

“We head for the slavers’ rendezvous point—a small compound in a vine-choked little space that passes for a clearing on this planet. As we approach, I start gettin’ suspicious. The place is way too easy to find. And there’s nothin’ there but a few mechs trimmin’ the worst o’ the overgrowth back like some kind of automated groundskeepers. ‘I don’t like this,’ I say to Thane.

“He nods. ‘The mechs are probably for security as much as maintenance,’ he says. I expect him to come up with a plan for getting around them, but before I can do anything, he’s got his sniper rifle in hand and bam, bam, bam, takes out all three bots with perfect headshots. They stumble back, shake for a second, then explode.

“‘Heh-heh-heh. Subtle,’ I laugh.

“Thane collapses his rifle and returns it to the holster on his back. ‘Now they know we’re here. Let’s go before they send more mechs.’

“But it ain’t mechs that meet us just inside the compound. Ain’t batarians, either. Nah, it’s four big bad krogan mercs and a whole mess o’ vorcha. Blood Pack mercs. ‘Aw, _shit,’_ I growl, and charge in.

“That was a tough fight. The four krogan were bad enough, but those vorcha were a real pain. Little freaks of nature, vorcha. They’re stupid and squishy but damn hard to kill. And they love fire—some of ’em were carrying flamethrowers, and a couple had rocket launchers. Yeah, rocket launchers in an enclosed space. Stupid, like I said.

“But by now, Thane and I are starting to get used to fighting together, and we fall into a rhythm. I throw Incinerate to set one on fire, Thane uses his biotics to launch him into one of his buddies, then the fuel in the flamethrower catches and they both explode. That doesn’t work so good on the rocket guys, since they’ve got shields, but that’s what submachine guns and big hammers are for, heh-heh-heh. Even vorcha die when their heads are caved in.

“You okay, Suvi? You don’t look so good.

“Anyway, we’re holding off the krogan at the same time. Thane’s faster than them and keeps his distance, Warping their armor in between Throwing vorcha around. Nice of him to soften them up for the old man, heh-heh. So I charge one, blood rage just singin’ along, and body-slam him before he can get a shot off. I’m too close even for my hammer now—we’re talkin’ hugging range, here—so I go at him with my fists. I’m wearin’ him down when Thane suddenly yells, ‘Drack, _duck!’_

“I hit the ground. A rocket goes sailing over my head and takes out the guy I was fighting, boom! One down. First rule of friendly fire: it ain’t, heh-heh-heh. I turn around and shoot a fireball at the vorcha that launched the rocket, and his shields are down, so he’s a crispy critter.

“Another krogan charges at Thane, roaring. But Thane keeps his cool and fires off a long burst from his SMG, and six or seven rounds drill right through the other guy’s head plate and he drops. Shredder rounds are no joke, kids. Then he Throws the body into the last of the vorcha, and I Incinerate them while they’re stunned. That just leaves two krogan, who’re starting to hesitate.

“I lunge at one of them, got my hammer over my head, ready to smash him into the ground with it. But he gets his shotgun around before I can reach him and hits me right in the gut. My armor takes it, but it’s still like getting kicked by an elcor. Yes, I know from experience, and that’s a _really_ long story. Shut up, Peebee. I catch my breath and get my hammer back up. One hit stuns him, the next knocks him down, and the third splatters his—sorry, Suvi. You guys get the idea.

“The last krogan bellows, and I turn to find him coming at me. Thane is nowhere to be seen. But there’s isn’t time to worry. I draw my shotgun and shoot him, blam, blam, his shields taking it, but the impacts slow him down. And then, in what’s gotta be a signature move for this kid, Thane drops out of the ceiling.

“Dunno how he got up there in the middle of a firefight, but by the time he hits the ground, it’s pretty much over. He hits the krogan’s eye ridge twice on the way down, temporarily blinding him. The merc reaches up to grab him, but misses, and gets hit in the throat for his trouble, right in a bundle of nerves that interrupts his breathing. Another nerve strike chokes off his blood rage, a knee to the quad bends him double, and then Thane has the guy’s head in his hands and is leaping over him, spinning around, using his whole body weight to snap his neck. All about as fast as you can blink.

“Yeah, Vetra, that’s about what I said. _Damn._

“‘That was somethin’ else, kid,’ I laugh. ‘Remind me not to piss you off.’

“Thane’s still catchin’ his breath, so he doesn’t answer, just coughs once as he looks around. It’s quiet now. Too quiet—I’m starting to get a bad feeling. Finally he says, ‘Come on, let’s find Shorek and his gang, and put an end to this.’

“But the longer we search the compound, the more obvious it is that Shorek’s men aren’t there. Not just that, they never were. There’s no sign of anyone but the Blood Pack brutes we just put down. Their ship is there, but no batarians anywhere. ‘I hate to break it to you, kid,’ I say slowly, ‘but I think we’ve been had.’ 

“At this point, I’m kind of expecting Thane to lose it completely. This whole thing has been really hard on him, of course, and the strain’s been showing more and more. He’s a ticking time bomb. I’ve seen guys like him break before, fellas—it ain’t pretty.

“But instead, he goes very, very calm. And somehow, that’s even scarier. ‘So it would seem,’ he almost whispers. There’s no trace of emotion on his face, in his voice, in his posture—nothing. Might as well be a mech. I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he forces himself to stay coldly logical. ‘There must be some clue here, some connection. We know the batarians were aboard _Rhekan’s Treasure_ when it departed Nos Astra, but not when it arrived here. Very likely these Blood Pack were. If we can confirm that, we may learn where Shorek has gone.’

“So we keep looking. Eventually, I find a datapad that has the beginning of a letter written on it—musta been in the middle of it when we arrived. It’s addressed to someone named Gorag. _‘Think Garm’s getting paranoid in his old age,’_ it says. _‘He sent a whole squad of us, with vorcha, to ambush two guys. Not gonna complain, though—easy cre’_

“I have to laugh. ‘Easy credits,’ sure, heh-heh-heh. But Garm—that name catches my attention. ‘Hey, kid,’ I call out. ‘These guys came from Omega. Got their orders from Garm; he’s in charge of the Blood Pack there. I bet that’s where our batarian friends are.’ I frown. ‘But how’d they get that past your info broker? She said they were going to Pragia.’

“An awful thought hits me. ‘Thane. You don’t think Deena—?’

“‘No,’ he says immediately, his brow knotting at the thought as he takes the datapad from me and reads it. ‘Drack, there are very few people in this galaxy that I trust implicitly, but Deena is one of them.’

“I grin at him to try and lighten the mood some. ‘Oh, really?’ I ask. ‘What about me?’

“Thane stares up at me thoughtfully. ‘I trust you… conditionally,’ he says. ‘I’m fairly certain you’re an honest man, and I don’t truly believe you’d betray me. But I don’t know you well enough yet to find the idea… entirely unthinkable.’ He shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. ‘I am confident, though, that if it should become necessary that you die… you would never see me coming.’ But there’s a bit of that twinkle coming back to his eyes as he says it.

“I laugh. ‘Heh-heh-heh. Just so I know where we stand.’ Time to get back to business. ‘So, how do you think they fooled your friend, then?’

“‘She’s very good, but she isn’t infallible,’ he says. He thinks for a moment. ‘You plotted the mass relay jumps to get us here. What systems did we come through?’

“‘From Tasale, we hit the relays at… Sahrabarik and Iera, I think,’ I answer. ‘Just had the computer calculate the quickest route. Why?’

“‘He nods. ‘Sahrabarik. So we passed right by Omega—where you say our mercenary friends came from.’ I can see his jaw clench. ‘Shorek and his men are already there. The emails we found were designed to be intercepted, to throw us off their trail. This was a trap.’

“‘Some trap,’ I snort. ‘They underestimated you big time, kid.’

“Thane gives me a wry smile. ‘It was you they underestimated, Drack,’ he says. ‘Had I come here alone, I’d be dead.’

“‘I dunno, I seem to recall you saving _my_ life back there once or twice,’ I remind him. ‘We do make a good team, though. Come on, let’s get back to the ship. I know somebody on Omega who might be able to help us out.’”

* * *

“Omega,” Liam intoned solemnly. “‘You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.’”

Vetra perked up at that. “Hey, I actually know that one!”

“Really?” asked Ryder, surprised. “I didn’t have you pegged for a _Star Wars_ fan, Vetra.”

“One of the first humans I worked with showed it to me. Said it’d been a mainstay of human culture for over two hundred years.” The turian chuckled. “Of course, I didn’t realize there were so many vids. Over a dozen all told, between the three trilogies and all the one-offs. But I liked them. They gave me a lot of insight into how your people think.”

Cora folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “And just what did you learn about humans from corny pre-first-contact sci-fi flicks?”

Vetra grinned. “That you’re all hopeless romantics at heart.”

“What, and turians aren’t?” Ryder scoffed. “C’mon, we’ve all seen _Fleet and Flotilla._ ”

“Yeah, but that was _supposed_ to be a romance,” Vetra argued. “Our war movies are _war_ movies. Sometimes I think humans are incapable of writing anything without a love story involved.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, back on topic. What did your contact on Omega have to say, Drack?”

Drack swallowed the last of his drink and grinned. “Oh, she had plenty to say. But I think we’ll have to pick it up there tomorrow.”


	10. Custom and Contention

“So how’d that vid you quoted last night go, Liam? Somethin’ about a ‘wretched hive of scum and villainy’? Heh-heh-heh, that about describes Omega. Back me up, Doc—am I right, or am I right? The station was run by whatever merc gangs and crime bosses could gain a decent foothold, and the most powerful was an asari named Aria T’Loak. Bit of a flair for the dramatic, that one, fond of saying things like ‘I _am_ Omega!’ Heh-heh-heh, but she wasn’t too far off. Nothing happened on that station without her knowledge—some would say, without her express permission, though that wasn’t entirely true. She did maintain a semblance of order, though, even if it was all orchestrated just to keep her rich and powerful.

“Aria reigned from a club near the docks, place called Afterlife. We head straight there, but of course we get stopped by the bouncer—an elcor, big grumpy-lookin’ guy. ‘With authority: stop right there,’ he drones. ‘Smugly: you are not on the list.’

“‘I’m an old friend of Aria’s,’ I tell him.

“The elcor just sighs dramatically and shakes his great big head. ‘Sarcastically: of course you are. I have not heard that one before.’ 

“‘Maybe this’ll do the trick, then,’ I say, and hand him a credit chit. Bribery’ll get you just about everywhere on Omega, heh-heh-heh.

“His whole attitude changes immediately. ‘With feigned surprise: ah, yes, of course. Go on in.’

“‘Must be quite a short list,’ Thane comments when we’re out of the bouncer’s earshot. ‘Elcor have long memories, but not especially detailed ones. How did he know who we are?’

“I have to laugh. ‘He didn’t, kid,’ I say. ‘There’s no list. That’s brass-quad extortion, right there—you wanna get in, you pay, simple as that. Aria is many things, but subtle ain’t one of ’em.’

“Thane is quiet for a moment, probably reconsidering what kind of friends I have. Or maybe what kind of friends he has. ‘…I see,’ he says finally, and leaves it at that.

“Now, Afterlife is what I’ve heard some humans refer to as a ‘gentleman’s club,’ but ain’t nothing gentle about it. You know Chora’s Den on the Citadel? It’s kinda like that, but more so. Loud music, dim lights, half-naked asari dancing on tables. Private rooms where the shadiest of shady deals go down. Seedy-lookin’ bartenders who’ll as soon poison you as serve you. Kind of place where you wouldn’t be surprised to find a knife in your back.

“And of course, Aria’s not hard to find, holding court on a dais high above all the action. She’s got a couple of goons guarding the stairs, but they just glare at us as we pass them. Nobody’s dumb enough to pull anything on Aria T’Loak on her own turf. Or if they are, they don’t live long enough to regret it. The hired guns are more a warning than anything else.

“As for Aria herself, she looks up as we approach but doesn’t stand, eyeing us coldly as she lounges on her couch, surrounded by more bodyguards and other assorted flunkies. ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Nakmor Drack,’ she drawls. ‘I thought you’d be dead by now, you boneheaded old bastard.’

“‘Heh-heh-heh, I’m too stubborn to die, Aria, you should know that,’ I reply with a grin. ‘Good to see you, too.’

“‘I just bet.’ Her eyes flick over to Thane, then back to me. ‘Still keeping _interesting_ company, I see. None other than Thane Krios, master assassin. Oh, don’t raise your eyebrow ridge at me,’ she says to him. ‘Friend of yours told me you might be coming. Of course, he also thought you might be dead.’ She shrugs. ‘Clearly, he should have had more faith in you.’

“Now, that catches my attention, ’cause it all but confirms our guys are here. Thane stiffens as he comes to the same conclusion. ‘Does this… friend of mine have a name?’ he asks. ‘A location?’

“‘That depends,’ Aria says, leaning forward with a predatory smile. ‘What’s it worth to you?’

“Thane is silent for a moment as he weighs his answer, but before he can speak, Aria chuckles. ‘Never mind, the look on your face says it all. You’re gonna run him down if it’s the last thing you do, aren’t you?’ She stands and closes in on him, gettin’ right up in his personal space, tryin’ to make him uncomfortable, I think. ‘Tell you what, since you’re obviously the brains of this operation. Do a little favor for me, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Call it a contract, if you will.’

“Thane grits his teeth as he holds her gaze. ‘Ms. T’Loak,’ he says, his politeness strained to the breaking point, ‘my mission is an urgent one. I haven’t time for games. I will pay you whatever you require for the information.’

“‘Pay me?’ Aria laughs, and gestures grandly. ‘Look around, Krios. You don’t think I have all the credits I could ever want?’ Her good humor disappears, and she gets real serious all of a sudden. ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret. These friends of yours? They’re my friends, too. If you want me to double-cross them, you’d better make it worth my while.’

“There’s a tense silence as they stare at each other for a moment, until Thane finally concedes. ‘Then it would seem I have little choice in the matter,’ he says. He straightens and clasps his hands behind his back. ‘Very well. What would you have me do?’

“Aria steps back from him and turns around to look out over the goings-on of Afterlife. ‘It’s an easy enough job,’ she says. ‘There’s a red sand dealer in Kima District: a human, name of Martin Skell. He’s small-time, but he’s undercutting _my_ operations in the area. Now, I’m not unreasonable, so I offered him protection in exchange for a cut of his profits.’ Her hands ball into fists. ‘He refused, and now his men are attacking mine on sight. And rumor has it he’s convincing some other small dealers to do the same. I want you to make an example of him, Krios.’

“‘An example?’ Thane asks.

“‘Make it loud. Make it messy.’ Aria turns back to face him again, her teeth bared. ‘I want him to _suffer._ I want all his little friends to know what happens when you cross me.’ She lets that settle for a moment, then extends a hand. ‘Do that for me, and I’ll point you right to where those friends of ours are hiding. Deal?’

“Thane is silent for a moment, and I can see his jaw clench as he considers her offer. He doesn’t like it, I can tell, but he knows we won’t get any further without Aria’s cooperation. And he’s heard the threat in her voice. There’s a shade of defeat in his posture as he shakes her hand and says, ‘Deal.’

“Aria’s biotics flare, trapping Thane’s hand in hers, and she grins. ‘I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,’ she says. ‘I want you to know, I have assassins in my employ already who are more than capable of this job. I know your reputation, Krios—this isn’t your style. In fact, it’s so far beneath you, its humiliating. But I’ve got the leverage to make you do it anyway.’ She laughs out loud. ‘I am so getting off on this!’

“Thane yanks his hand free, a look of disgust and horror on his face. Then he turns on his heel and leaves without another word.

“Aria falls back onto her couch, still laughing. ‘That was cruel, Aria,’ I growl. ‘Kid’s goin’ through some serious shit right now. Lay off him, will ya?’

“She puts a hand on her chest in an affected gesture. ‘Aw, standing up for your poor, traumatized friend,’ she mocks. ‘Doesn’t that just warm my cold, black little heart.’ She gestures for me to sit down and says, ‘I have to admit, Drack, when those guys said Krios was traveling with a krogan bodyguard, it never occurred to me it might be _you.’_

“Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Heh-heh-heh. I ain’t his bodyguard, Aria. I’m just kind of… helpin’ him out. You could say I owe him.’

“She snorts. ‘You always were a sentimental fool. It’s gotten you into a lot of trouble over the centuries.’

“‘Sure has,’ I agree, ‘but it’s gotten me outta some, too. You seem to be doin’ well for yourself, though.’

“‘I’ll feel better when Skell is dead,’ she growls. ‘His operation may be small, but he’s made himself a real thorn in my side these past few months. It’s like he’s deliberately trying to get under my skin and piss me off.’

“‘Doin’ a good job of it,’ I say.

“But Aria continues like she didn’t hear me. ‘I don’t know what his problem is. He should know better than to fuck with me. But not only is he openly selling on my turf, he’s getting _cute_ with it. Presses the stuff into the shape of a death’s-head and calls them “Skell’s Skulls.” Stupid.’ She gives me a sideways glance. ‘Might help you track him down, though.’

“I can take a hint, so I—ha ha, real funny, Vetra. ‘’Preciate it, Aria,’ I say, and go catch up with Thane.

“He’s waitin’ for me by the bar. Not drinkin’ anything—I don’t think I ever saw him touch a drop of alcohol—just chattin’ up one o’ the bartenders. She’s tellin’ him everything she knows about Skell, and makin’ eyes at him the whole time, heh-heh-heh. I dunno, lotta human females seemed to find Thane attractive. I don’t even think he notices.

“‘He’s a real creeper,’ she says. ‘I think he’s a drug dealer, but he’s not like any other dealer I’ve ever met. He asked if I do red sand, but he actually looked disappointed when I said no. He didn’t try to sell me any, or even convince me to try it. Not that I wanted him to. It was just weird, you know? He only seemed interested in selling to people who were already hooked.’ She giggles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear—same way I’ve seen you do, Ryder, when you’re talkin’ to Jaal. Hey, she turned that same shade of red, too! ‘Hallex is more my speed,’ she continues. ‘I’ve got some, back in my apartment… I get off shift in two hours. I could, you know… share.’

“‘I’m afraid I must decline,’ Thane says drily. ‘I need to find him quickly. Can you describe him for me?’

“The bartender pouts for a second, then perks up. ‘I can do you one better,’ she says. ‘Give me your extranet address, and I’ll send you the security cam footage of him.’

“‘That would be quite helpful,’ Thane replies. They exchange information and she uploads the file to his omni-tool. He opens it up and turns it so she can see it. ‘Which one is he?’

“‘Pause it, right… there,’ she says, and the vid freezes with a face looking almost right at the camera. ‘That’s him. That’s Skell.’

“He had the kind of face you just want to punch. Fleshy cheeks, pointy nose, and a self-satisfied, superior kind of smirk. He had dark eyes and floppy dark hair that looked like he spent way too much time grooming. Didn’t really look like a typical drug dealer, aside from being shady as hell. ‘Thank you, Anna,’ Thane says. ‘Come on, Drack, let’s go.’

“‘See you around?’ Anna calls after him hopefully, but he doesn’t answer.

“On our way down to Kima District, Thane stops at what seems like a random kiosk in the markets. He breaks a credit chit into smaller denominations, and buys a handful of little toys. Like, kids’ toys. ‘What’s all that for?’ I ask.

“‘In places like this, the best sources of information are what my people call _drala’fa:_ the ignored,’ he explains. ‘Homeless junkies, orphaned children, the ones who see everything, yet are not seen. Few take pains to hide their activities from them. Therefore, they can often be persuaded to share their observations in exchange for a meal or a small gift.’

“‘Huh,’ I say, and we head out.”

* * *

“‘The ignored,’” Cora murmured softly. “How… brutally honest.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Vetra.

“Think about it,” Cora replied. “It’s true: we walk right past these poor, disadvantaged kids without a second glance. Maybe we spare a few credits or a moment of pity, but we’ve forgotten them by the time we get where we’re going. An uncomfortable truth, but there it is.” She leaned forward across the table. “To call them ‘the ignored’ acknowledges that. And puts the onus squarely back on us, the ones doing the ignoring, to help them. It’s not a description, it’s an _accusation.”_

Ryder nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope our new society can do better."


	11. Charity and Compassion

“You know, Cora, I never thought about it that way before. Makes me think Thane did, though. Seeing him talk to these _drala’fa,_ it was a side of him I hadn’t really seen before. Some of that coldness about him seemed to melt away—to the point where I started to wonder which persona was the act and which one was real.

“Remember when I said it hadn’t occurred to me that he might have a family? Well, I could sure see it now. Especially with this one little kid we ran into. Heh-heh, he ran into us, actually. Little human kid, maybe seven or eight years old, with stringy yellow hair and big blue eyes. He comes bolting out of a shop as fast as his dirty little feet can carry him and barrels straight into me, then falls on his butt. Takes one look at me and starts to cry. ‘I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise!’ the poor thing wails.

“‘Aw, it’s okay, little guy,’ I start to say, but Thane’s already crouched down next to him.

“‘What won’t you do again?’ he asks gently.

“The boy looks nervously from Thane to me and back to Thane, and starts to scoot slowly backward, away from us. Thane makes no move to stop him. ‘I was… I was tryin’ to steal some food,’ the little urchin mumbles. ‘I know I ain’t s’posed to, but I ain’t got no money an’ I’m so _hungry…’_ Poor kid’s eyes start wellin’ up again. ‘Please don’t ’rest me.’

“Thane chuckles softly. ‘We’re not going to arrest you, son,’ he says. ‘What’s your name?’

“‘Nicolas,’ the boy says with a sniffle.

“‘Well, Nicolas, why don’t you come with us, and we’ll get you something to eat.’ Thane stands and extends a hand to help him up.

“Little Nicolas just sits there for a minute, staring up at us, still unsure if he can trust us or not. Can’t say I blame the kid. Finally, though, the promise of food wins out, and he puts his tiny hand in Thane’s.”

* * *

Drack took a sip of his drink, then set the tankard back down and pushed it away. “You humans talk a lot about ‘getting in touch with your feelings’ or whatever,” he grunted. “Krogan ain’t real big on that. But I sure was havin’ _feelings_ that day, and rememberin’ it all is bringin’ ’em all back.” He made a face. “Seein’ Thane with that little kid… I could imagine how he mighta been with his son. Brought home just what’d been taken from him.  What _I’d_ taken from him. That kind of guilt… It’s hard to describe.”

A brittle silence fell over the table, and before she could stop herself, Ryder said quietly, “It’s like… it’s that feeling like you need to either throw up or eat something, and you can’t do either one.” She swallowed hard. “It’s feeling so empty you think you’ll explode.”

All eyes turned to her in surprise.

“That… yeah, that’s one way to put it,” said Drack slowly.

Ryder felt a hand settle gently on her shoulder, and turned to see Jaal’s catlike eyes shining down at her with concern. She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and probably failing. “The Forge. Akksul.” She looked away, unable to meet his gaze, his agonized voice as she’d gunned down his erstwhile friend echoing in her mind. “It’s not the same thing—for one, even knowing what I know now, I’d do it again anyway,” she said to Drack. “But for what it’s worth… I know the feeling.”

“I think it’s safe to say most of us have moments like that,” Liam offered. “The things we’re not proud of, that keep coming back to haunt us. Whether it’s just in our minds or not.”

There were nods of agreement from around the table.

Drack gritted his teeth, then snatched up his tankard and drained it in one shot. “Yeah, well, we can all have our share-fest later. I’m not done.”

* * *

“So we find a less-disreputable-looking café and get the little tyke a meal—some weird human concoction called a ‘cheeseburger’ or something. Kid devours it like he ain’t seen food in weeks. And the whole time, Thane’s just watchin’ him quietly, not speaking. I’m gettin’ fidgety, but the kid doesn’t seem to care. Finally, he starts to slow down, and looks at Thane a little guiltily. ‘Oh, uh, thanks, mister,’ he mumbles.

“Thane just smiles back at him. ‘You’re welcome,’ he says. ‘You’re feeling better now?’

“Nicolas nods happily.

“‘Good.’ Thane folds his hands on the table. ‘I’d like to talk to you for a little while, if I may.’

“A little of that wariness comes back to the little boy’s face, but he swallows his mouthful of food and says, ‘Okay.’

“Thane pulls up the picture of Skell on his omni-tool. ‘Can you tell us anything about this man? Have you seen him?’

“Nicolas’s eyes go wide, and he looks like he’s gonna bolt. ‘Why are you looking for Uncle Marty?’ he whimpers.

“That surprises me. ‘This scumbag’s your uncle?’ I demand without thinking.

“Thane scowls at me as Nicolas shrinks down in his chair, whimpering. Then he turns back to the boy and says gently, ‘Is that true?’

“‘Sort of,’ Nicolas sniffles. ‘He was my mama’s friend, I guess. He would bring her candy and stay all night.’ He pouts. ‘He never let _me_ have any candy. Mama said it was only for grown-ups.’

“‘Where’s your mom now?’ I ask. ‘We’ll take you back to her, and we’d like to talk to her about… uh, Uncle Marty.’

“Nicolas’s lip quivers, and tears start to roll down his face, leaving trails in the dirt on his cheeks. ‘Mama’s dead,’ he sobs. ‘She was really sick. Uncle Marty was s’posed to take care of me. He promised her. But then he sent me away.’

“Now I’m seein’ red. Sounds like Skell was sleepin’ with this kid’s mother and supplyin’ her with red sand. Probably got her hooked on it in the first place. I’d bet good money it was the red sand that killed her, too. But the poor woman fell in love with him and asked him to take her son in when she passed. And then the slimy, heartless bastard just tossed the kid aside like so much garbage. I started to hope that when we found this guy, Thane would let me get a few licks in.

“I can see on Thane’s face that he’s connectin’ the dots, too, and comin’ to the same conclusion. His jaw clenches and his eyes go hard. ‘Nicolas,’ he says, and his voice is real quiet and controlled, ‘do you know where he is?’

“Nicolas nods miserably. ‘Think so.’

“‘Can you tell us?’

“The boy thinks for a moment, then says, ‘No. But… I think I can take you there.’

“Thane claps him on the shoulder. ‘Good boy. Finish your meal, and we’ll go.’

“Yeah, guys, I see what you’re all thinking. I was thinkin’ it, too. ‘Hey, Thane,’ I say. ‘A word?’

“We step away from the table and keep our voices low so Nicolas can’t hear us. ‘What’s the matter, Drack?’ he asks.

“‘What’s the matter? Takin’ this kid with us, that’s what’s the matter,’ I growl. ‘We don’t know what we’re walkin’ into. He could get hurt. He could get _us_ hurt.’

“‘The boy is our only lead on Skell’s location,’ Thane argues. ‘I don’t see that we have a choice. We have to take that risk.’

“‘Fine,’ I concede, ‘but what happens when we find him?’

“That gives him pause. ‘I can handle Skell alone,’ he says finally. ‘You take Nicolas back to the ship. When we’ve completed our mission, we’ll bring him to the Citadel and find someone who’ll take him in.’

“I just stare at him. ‘You’re askin’ me to babysit?’

“‘We can’t just leave him,’ Thane says. ‘He’s in danger as long as he’s on Omega.’

“‘Yeah, and so’s every other kid we talked to,’ I tell him. ‘Why Nicolas?’

“Thane doesn’t answer, just turns away to go back to where Nicolas is sitting. I grab his arm to stop him. ‘Thane. He’s not Kolyat.’

“Thane freezes, still with his back to me. He’s silent for a long moment, then he just says, ‘I know,’ and pulls free of my grasp. But not before I hear him mutter, _‘Arashu, forgive me.’”_


	12. Crusades and Casualties

Ryder was giving Gil a sympathetic pat on the shoulder when Vetra’s voice rang out across the Vortex. “Hey, Brodie! What’s with the delay? I thought we were finally shoving off today.”

The harried-looking engineer lowered his forehead to the table with a dull thud as she approached. “Ugh. The Nexus techs did something to the power relays,” he groaned. “Everything looked fine until we fired up the engines, and then _zap!_ Power surge. Fried _everything._ At this rate, we’re gonna be in drydock ‘til Judgement Day. And the worst part,” he growled, looking up and glaring at the _Tempest_ ’s pilot seated across from him, “is the ‘I told you so’ written all over Kallo’s face.”

“Hey, now!” Ryder exclaimed as the salarian spluttered indignantly. “I thought you two worked this out ages ago.”

“So did I!” said Kallo petulantly.

Gil sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Kallo, I guess I’m just… cranky.” With a weary sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and headed toward the bar. “I need a drink.”

“Damn.” Vetra slid into a chair as she watched him go. “He’s gonna run himself ragged if he’s not careful.”

“On the up side,” Liam cut in, “at least we get to hear the rest of Drack’s story.”

Drack stared down into his tankard, already nearly empty. “Yeah, you do,” he muttered morosely. “But you’re not gonna like this part.”

* * *

“Little Nicolas led us into the underbelly of Omega, through corridors lined with leaky pipes and past rooms full of dusty cobwebs and obsolete machines. We kept as clear as we could of the junkies, drug dealers, and hookers that infested the place, but we knew we were on the right track when we saw folks trading red sand in skull-shaped tablets.

“But the conversation around those tablets was weird, guys. Folks were buyin’ the stuff like they were cravin’ a fix, but talkin’ the whole time about getting clean. How it was worth the credits they were spending—and they were spending a lot. Finally, Thane says what we’re both thinking. ‘I don’t think that’s red sand, Drack,’ he says quietly. ‘I think… I think it’s an antidote.’

“Well, that complicates things, of course. ‘Great. So we’re gonna—’ I lower my voice so Nicolas hopefully can’t hear me. ‘We’re gonna off the guy who’s helping folks get un-addicted?’

“‘If you call blatant price-gouging “helping,”’ he whispers back. ‘I believe “brass-quad extortion” was the exact phrase you used? But we mustn’t lose sight of our true mission. Skell is a means to an end.’ He frowns thoughtfully, then continues, ‘But perhaps we can obtain the formula before we finish him.’

“I nod. ‘Secondary objective.’ Then a thought occurs to me. ‘You think Aria knows about this?’

“‘Most likely,’ he replies. ‘I get the impression that very little goes on here without her knowledge. And I would not be surprised to learn she lied to us.’

“I grunt in agreement. ‘Ain’t that the truth. False pretenses are how she operates. Still, if we do manage get our hands on that formula, it might be best not to tell her.’

“‘Hide it… from Aria T’Loak?’ Thane raises his eyebrow ridge. ‘You play a dangerous game, my friend.’

“I just grin at him. ‘Heh-heh-heh. And?’

“He gives me this long-suffering stare—he was good at that, heh-heh—then sighs and shakes his head. ‘And you’re probably right,’ he admits. ‘If she gets her hands on the formula, and if her red sand operation is as big as she’s led us to believe, she’ll never let it see the light of day again.’

“‘Could save some lives if we hang on to it,’ I say. ‘Get it to someone whose interests are a little more… charitable.’

“‘Indeed,’ he answers.

“That’s when Nicolas stops and points down a corridor branching off to our left. ‘That way,’ he whispers. ‘Uncle Marty works down there. But there’s always some guys outside, and they’re mean.’ He swallows hard. ‘I don’t want ’em to see me.’

“‘Leave that to me, kiddo,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get those guards outta the way.’

“‘Drack. Leave them alive.’ I turn back to look at Thane, but he won’t meet my eyes. ‘Aria will want… corroboration.’

“So I turn the corner and find two guys guarding a door. Humans. Big humans, sure, but still nowhere near a match for me, heh-heh-heh. They fired shotguns at me as I charged, but my shields took it and I just bowled ’em over. Smacked their heads together and it was lights out for both of ’em—fight was over before it even got started. Figured I’d hit ’em hard enough that they’d be out for a while, so I didn’t bother tyin’ ’em up. Just dragged ’em far enough away that Nicolas wouldn’t have to see.

“What can I say? I was developin’ a soft spot for the little guy. Thane was, too.

“‘All clear,’ I call back to them, and Thane appears soon after, leading a nervous-looking Nicolas by the hand.

“‘Is this the right place?’ he asks the boy.

“Nicolas nods. ‘That’s Uncle Marty’s lab. Do I hafta go in there?’

“‘No!’ Thane crouches so he’s at eye level with Nicolas, and continues more gently, ‘No. You’ve been a great help, Nicolas, and you have my gratitude. Drack is going to take you someplace safe now, while I… talk to Uncle Marty.’

“‘Okay,’ Nicolas says, then suddenly flings his little arms around Thane’s neck and hugs him.

“Thane stiffens in surprise, then pats the boy’s back softly. ‘I’ll come back and join you soon, all right?’

“‘Okay,’ Nicolas says again. He lets go of Thane and steps back to take my hand.

“Thane stands and looks at me with a condemned man’s eyes. ‘Be careful in there, kid,’ I say.

“He just nods once, distractedly, then abruptly turns and keys the door controls to the lab. ‘Martin Skell,’ I hear him say, and his voice is suddenly commanding and colder than the poles of Voeld. Then the door slides shut behind him.

“Nicolas and I turn back the way we came. But before we get to the end of the corridor, an emergency bulkhead slams down and locks. I turn back the other way, but there’s no other exit. We’re sealed in.

“‘Shit,’ I mutter to myself. I search for a control panel, but there’s nothing. I can only assume Skell put his hideout on lockdown the instant he laid eyes on Thane. No option but to try to hack the lock. ‘Don’t worry, kiddo,’ I tell Nicolas, ‘I’ll get us out of here.’

“As I try to pick the door open, I can hear muffled noises coming from the lab. Skell was a paranoid son of a varren—musta had some kind of soundproofing on his lab. Small favors, right? I recognize the sounds because I know what’s going on in there, but hopefully little Nicolas doesn’t.

“It’s not too long, though, before I realize it’s useless—I can’t get through the seals on the door. We’re gonna have to wait for Thane to… finish up.

“And eventually, after what feels like forever, the noises stop. I give it another minute or so before I go in. I tell myself it’s to make sure it’s over, but to be honest, I just don’t think I wanted to see what was left. Of either of them.

“‘Hey Nicolas,’ I say. ‘I need you to be real brave for a coupla minutes, okay?’

“He nods, wide-eyed.

“I steer him toward the locked door and plant him in front of it. ‘I need you to stand watch,’ I tell him. ‘Don’t take your eyes off this door. Anyone comes through it, you yell, okay? I’ll be right back.’

“His little face is determined. ‘Okay.’

“So I gather my own courage and go into the lab.

“It was a damn good thing I left Nicolas outside. Much as the kid resented Skell, the slimy bastard had still been practically family. And he looked at Thane like he was some kind of hero. Little guy didn’t need to see this.

“To say Skell was a mess would be an understatement. There was blood everywhere, still dripping from dozens of lacerations and stab wounds. His arms and legs were twisted and broken, and one of his eyes was missing. His head was turned way too far to the side, his neck snapped when Thane had finally decided to have mercy on them both.

“I say ‘both,’ because one look at Thane made it clear that this business had been torture for him, too. He was kneeling next to the body, both hands braced on the ground, shaking. His head was bowed, and he was mumbling something under his breath. ‘Hey, kid. You okay?’ I ask. I mean, I know he’s not, but I don’t know what else to say.

“He doesn’t answer for so long that I start to wonder if he heard me. ‘Thane?’

“It’s a few more eternal seconds before he finally looks up at me and climbs unsteadily to his feet. ‘My apologies,’ he says hoarsely, ‘but prayers for the wicked… must not be forsaken.’

“There’s something in the look on his face that makes me ask, ‘You talkin’ about him—or you?’

“He’s silent for a moment, staring down at the mutilated body on the ground, then at his own hand, still covered in red alien blood.  Then he whispers, ‘Indeed.’

“He wasn’t quite the same after that. It was like something in him had broken loose, like some restraint had failed. There was a… a wildness in his eyes, almost a blood rage, that threatened to erupt in fire and ice.

“In that moment, guys, I was afraid for him… and of him.

“But when he looks up at me again, he’s clamped down on that rage with an iron will. It’s taking everything he’s got, but he’s holding it together—for now. ‘Nicolas is safe on the ship?’ he asks.

“I shake my head. ‘He’s just outside. I think Skell tripped some kind of panic button,’ I tell him. ‘Corridor’s sealed off. Controls have to be in here somewhere.’

“Thane suddenly looks sick. ‘How much did he hear?’ he asks tonelessly.

“‘Not too much, I don’t think,’ I reassure him. ‘But maybe you should go talk to him, let him know it’s over.’ I look him up and down. ‘Might wanna clean up first, though.’

“He stares down at his bloody hands again, studying them as if he’s seeing them for the first time, and says, ‘Yes. Of course.’”

* * *

“Wait. Did he at least get the formula from Skell?” asked Kallo.

Drack shook his head. “No,” he grunted. “Same panic code that sealed off the corridor wiped the data from the computer. Skell died for nothing but Aria’s vainglory, and what little good he was doing died with him.” He took a gulp of his drink—his third.  “That’s Omega for you.”

“‘Scum and villainy,’ indeed,” Jaal rumbled softly.

“Heh-heh-heh.” Drack’s chuckle was grim. “You ain’t heard the half of it.”

* * *

“So, I don’t know what Thane told the kid, but by the time I found the controls and released the door, Nicolas was clutching his hand and wiping away tears. I give Thane a questioning look, and he just nods once. I assume that means the little guy’s okay, at least.

“Nicolas leads us back the way we came, and coming out of those back alleys and into what passes for civilization on Omega was like a breath of fresh air. It made all that nastiness with Skell almost feel like a dream—or at least, like we’d left it far behind. Finally, we ended up back where we’d started this whole mess: the plaza between the docks and the front entrance of Afterlife.

“‘Thank you, Nicolas,’ Thane says. ‘We couldn’t have accomplished this without your help.’

“Nicolas looks up at me, then at Thane. ‘What’s gonna happen to me now?’ he asks carefully. I can tell he’s expecting that we’ll just leave him, and it kinda makes my hearts break a little.

“Thane gives him a reassuring smile. ‘You’ll stay on our ship for a few days,’ he says. ‘I’ll make sure you have everything you need there. Drack and I have an important mission here, but when that’s complete, we’ll take you to the human embassy on the Citadel. They’ll find someone who can take you in.’

“But that’s not what he wants to hear, either. ‘Can’t I stay with you?’ the boy asks. Those big blue eyes of his fill with tears.

“Thane sighs and crouches down so he’s at eye level with Nicolas, and puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m going to be very honest with you, Nicolas,’ he says with difficulty. ‘I have a son of my own, and I have been a… a poor father to him. I don’t know how to…’ He trails off, shakes his head and tries again. ‘I know even less about raising humans. You would be far better off with someone who—’

“‘But I wanna be like you!’ Nicolas interrupts.

“At that, Thane just freezes, stunned. ‘Why would you want to be like me?’ he asks. His voice comes out in a strained whisper.

“Nicolas looks at him with shining eyes. ‘I wanna do what you do!’

“‘You want to… no!’ Thane stands and stumbles back a step, his own eyes wide with horror. I think that’s what gave the sniper a clear line of fire. ‘Nicolas, what do you think I do?’ he demands.

“The boy frowns at his shock, all innocence and hero worship, and says, ‘You help people.’

“‘Nicolas, I—’ But before he can finish, a shot rings out from above.”


	13. Conspiracy and Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next contain dialogue from the Mass Effect: Foundations comics.

Suvi gasped, Gil winced, and Ryder bit her lip. “No!” Vetra breathed in dismay. “Do not tell me he came that far just to get shot!”

Drack blinked at her, somewhat drunkenly. “Hmm?”

“Uh-uh.” Cora leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “Krios didn’t go out like that.”

“What? No,” Drack grunted, then bit out with a grimace, “I never said the sick bastard was aimin’ at _Thane.”_

That brought everyone up short. The words sat in the middle of the table like an ugly centerpiece, capturing the group’s horrified attention as they processed the implications.

Ryder’s heart sank into her boots as Lexi whispered, “Oh, no.” Peebee looked slightly sick, and Liam and Jaal exchanged an uneasy glance.

Drack bared his teeth in a snarl. “Oh, yes.”

* * *

“So I’m just standing there in shock, and Thane dives forward to catch Nicolas as he falls. He… he cradles the little guy’s head in one hand, and… it comes away covered in blood. There’s a bullet hole between those big blue eyes, and the back of his skull is just… He’s gone, just like that.

“I, uh… I’ve been around a really long time, guys. Seen a lotta death. Seen a lotta violent death. You kinda get used to it. But when it’s a little kid… you never get used to that, not if you got a heart.

“Anyway, Thane gently lays the little body on the floor and closes the boy’s eyes. He mutters something under his breath, and I catch the name of Kalahira, the drell Goddess of death or whatever. But when he looks up, there ain’t nothin’ gentle or pious in his eyes. You know what it is? It’s the same look he had on his face when I first met him on Anhur—that icy, murderous, desperate rage that threatens his soul and his sanity. Only he doesn’t seem interested in holdin’ it back this time. He turns to where the shot came from, and I guess he sees something, ’cause he doesn’t say a word, just takes off running. I follow, but I’m hard-pressed to keep up.

“Of course, by the time he finds the sniper’s perch, there’s nobody there. Guy’s long gone, no way to tell where he went. But he left something behind—a datapad. Thane’s already found it before I catch up, and as soon as I do, he thrusts it at me and says flatly, ‘We must speak with Aria _now._ Time is short.’ And he stalks off the way we came without a backward glance.

“A little disoriented, I look down at the datapad. It’s a note, apparently from the sniper, and only six words: _‘Masav Nyahir. I have unfinished business.’_ The name sounds familiar, though I can’t quite figure out why. But after a few seconds of puzzling over it, I realize Thane isn’t waiting for me. He’s already back down in the plaza, headed toward Afterlife, and folks are scurrying out of his way.

“I hurry after him. ‘Thane! Talk to me, kid,’ I say as he storms past Afterlife’s bouncers and into the lobby. ‘Who’s this Masav Nyahir?’

“He stops so suddenly I almost run him over, then whirls around to glare at me. ‘It’s not _who,_ it’s _where,’_ he snaps. ‘Masav Nyahir is a small drell settlement on Kahje. My sister-in-law Kaedi lives there with her husband. And Kolyat. Drack, that sniper was the same assassin who killed Irikah.’ There’s as much fear as anger on his face and in his voice as he half whispers, ‘And he’s found them. He’s found my son.’

“All I can think is, _Well, shit_. ‘And he’s playin’ with you, too,’ I growl. ‘We gotta find this bastard before he gets off Omega.’

“He nods once, sharply. ‘Precisely. And our best lead is Shorek and his associates. We must hurry.’

“Aria’s expecting us, of course. Word travels fast through her networks, and she’s already studying a holo of Skell’s lab when we get inside. ‘I have to admit, I’m impressed,’ she says to Thane as we approach. ‘Taking the eye was inspired. I think this gets my point across very nicely.’ She looks up from the holo and raises an eyebrow. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have obtained any… information that might be of use to me?’

“‘I have upheld my end our bargain,’ Thane grinds out impatiently. ‘Where is Shorek?’

“Aria sighs and leans back on her couch. ‘Skell wiped his computer, did he? Oh well, the end result is the same, isn’t it?’ She shrugs. ‘It was worth a try. The batarians are holed up in Auxera, down in Gozu District.’

“Thane nods. ‘Lock down the docks. They know we’re after them, and they cannot be allowed to escape.’

“Aria barks a short, sharp laugh. ‘What makes you think I can do that? Or that I would if I could?’

“‘I think you control everything on this station,’ I snap when Thane hesitates. Aria’s always been a little vulnerable to ego-stroking. ‘I think a word from you is enough to make just about anything happen around here. As for why—well, you’ll just have to trust us that these guys are real bad news. Letting them go would be a big mistake.’

“‘Why, Drack, that almost sounded like a threat,’ Aria purrs. She considers for a moment, then says, ‘Fine. I’ll give you one hour. After that, all ships are free to go.’

“Thane bows stiffly. ‘My thanks,’ he says, and even his politeness is strained. Then he turns to me. ‘Let’s go, Drack.’

“Now, Gozu District is mostly residential, and at the time it was firmly under the Blue Suns’ collective thumb. Auxera was an apartment complex that was always ‘under construction,’ meaning civilians stayed out while the Suns used it for whatever they needed. That could only mean Shorek and his goons were paying the mercs for protection. Heh-heh-heh, and judging by the fight they gave us, paying a _lot._

“Yeah, we got jumped as soon as we set foot in the building. Couple squads o’ troopers with some heavies as backup. Easy pickings if it wasn’t two against two dozen or so. Not that they amounted to anything we couldn’t handle, but they sure made us work for it.

“Lemme set the scene for you some. Like I said, Auxera was an apartment complex, or it used to be. The Suns had totally gutted the place. They took out a lot o’ the inside walls and turned it into a warehouse or something. Lots of open space, but plenty o’ crates and half-walls to take cover behind. Blessing and a curse, that.

“So, the Suns pop up out of what seems like nowhere and fan out in an almost organized attack. A bunch of turians with shotguns close in quick, some guys with rifles coverin’ ’em, and the heavies hangin’ to the rear with their missile launchers. Thane and I dive for cover as the first missile screams past my ear. The air crackles as Thane charges his biotics and Throws the nearest guys back. Some of ’em stumble into friendly fire from the riflemen, heh-heh. Gives us time to bring our weapons to bear.

“Thane pulls his sniper rifle and starts pickin’ off the heavies one by one. Before long, they’re hesitating to shoot at us ’cause they know they’re goin’ down the second they pop out of cover. He’s that quick. And I swear he never misses a shot.

“And with the missile guys, heh-heh-heh, _occupied,_ that leaves me open to take on the vanguard. I go in shotgun blazing. Take a coupla hits, but my shields hold, mostly, and my ol’ Ruzad just mows ’em down. ’Til I get into melee range, anyway. Then I get my hammer out, and—well, you all know what happens next, heh-heh-heh.

“The guys with assault rifles are a little bigger problem. Soon as all the heavies are down, Thane takes ’em on with his SMG, but even with shredder rounds, he’s only one gun against something like eight. I don’t make it back to cover before my shields finally fail, and I take a bullet to leg. Prosthetic one, fortunately, but it’s enough to slow me down a little. So I activate my omni-tool and launch a fireball at the one who shot me. Sets three guys on fire at once. Now it’s five on two, which puts the odds squarely in our favor, heh-heh-heh. I think the whole fight took ten minutes.

“But finally the room is clear, and we can look for Shorek. There’s a few private rooms left after the Suns’ remodeling, and it’s a pretty simple matter to hack the locks and search each one.

“There’s forty-five minutes left before Aria opens the docks.

“I’m pickin’ the lock on the third door when Thane says tersely, ‘There are more mercenaries incoming. Hurry.’ He takes cover behind a pile of crates, SMG in hand, and now I can hear them, too.

“But I get the lock released, and the door opens on three scared and angry batarians just as the Blue Suns’ reinforcements arrive. ‘Thane, go!’ I tell him. ‘I got this!’ We trade places, and the door slides shut behind him as the Suns converge on me.

“Tell you the truth, I thought I was goin’ down then and there. Not that I wanted to die, but I figured if I had to, this was as good a way as any, and anyway a damn sight better than I deserved. But I was determined to give Thane as much time as I could to get the information he needed.

“So I held them off. I think there were ten of ’em, all told, but I didn’t exactly stop to count. Lots of fire coming my way, and between my damaged leg and recharging shields, I wasn’t gonna be much use if I charged in swingin’ my hammer like I usually do.

“Lucky for me, though, the stacks of crates and whatnot that made such great cover also kind of funneled all the unfriendlies into one spot if they wanted to come after me. So they could only attack a few at a time, or else risk shootin’ their own guys in the back. All I really had to do is sit there and let ’em come, and pick ’em off when they got too close.

“Took a while to clear ’em all out—I think they were tryin’ to wear me down, hopin’ I’d make a mistake or something. And to be honest, I was pretty surprised to be the last one standing, myself. But I was. And then I realized Thane was still in the next room with the batarians, so I steeled myself to go in and check on him.

“He’d, uh, made use of the time, that’s for sure. Two of ’em—judging by the dossiers Deena had sent us, Dal’Gar and Forel—were already dead. And by the looks of them, they hadn’t gone quick, either. I’ll spare you the gory details, but it wasn’t pretty. Let’s just say… let’s just say Skell had it easy by comparison. Guys… their eyes were gone. All of them. And he definitely did it before they died.

“Remember, Thane was an expert in xenosociology. He knew full well that batarians believe their souls leave their bodies through their eyes when they die. According to their beliefs, then, these two were doomed to spend eternity trapped in their own rotting flesh. The cruelty of it was… a little shocking.

“And as for Shorek, well, he wasn’t in much better shape. He was sprawled facedown on the floor, bleeding and shuddering. Thane had a knee in his back and his arm wrenched up at an impossible angle, and was leaning over him to question him in this eerily cold, dispassionate voice. ‘I grow tired of your obduracy,’ he says. ‘I will ask you one last time: who was the assassin?’

“When Shorek doesn’t answer right away, Thane jerks his arm up even higher behind his back, and I can hear the bones snap from across the room. Shorek shouts in pain. ‘Give me the name,’ Thane insists.

“Shorek’s close to breaking, I can tell, but he holds out a little longer. ‘Screw you, Krios,’ he spits.

“With a growl, Thane drags him over to where the room’s back wall had been removed to open out over the warehouse floor. He dangles the batarian’s head and shoulders over the edge, his grip the only thing keeping Shorek from falling. And maybe it’s my imagination, but I think he’s close to breaking, too. Some of that discipline, that iron control, starts to crack, and his voice trembles a little as he growls, _‘Who was he?!’_ My stomach turns as he starts to reach for Shorek’s eyes.

 _“‘Stiv Kay!’_ Shorek howls, and I can see on his face he knows it’s over. ‘His name’s Stiv Kay!’

“‘Kay is alive?’ Thane demands in surprise, and his grip tightens on the batarian’s arm, setting bone grinding against broken bone and drawing another whimper out of him. _‘Where is he?!’_

“Shorek, damn him, forces a smirk and gasps, ‘Halfway to Kahje by now.’

“‘The docks,’ I say quietly. ‘Aria’s lifting the lockdown in five minutes.’

“‘Then I need no more from you.’ And it’s without a flicker of emotion in those cold, dark eyes that Thane swiftly and deftly snaps his neck.”


	14. Condemnation and Catharsis

“Thane mumbles something under his breath—another one of his ‘prayers for the wicked,’ probably—then releases Shorek’s body, which slides over the edge to land with a sick splat on the crates in the warehouse below. He just stands there for a moment, staring after it. His jaw is clenched hard, his teeth bared, and he’s breathing heavily and raggedly, like… like he’s tryin’ to keep something wild and dangerous under control and just barely succeeding.

“But there isn’t time to waste. ‘C’mon, kid, we gotta move,’ I say urgently. The fact that I’m the one remindin’ _him_ how short we are on time has me worried. Then again, what he did to those batarians had me worried, too. He was losin’ it, no question about it. I could only hope, for his sake, that he could hold it together long enough to finish his mission.

“He kind of shivers a little, then turns to face me. ‘Yes, of course,’ he says. ‘Let’s go.’

“Fastest way back to the docks is by shuttle, and Thane is understandably fidgety. He sits with his elbows on his knees, and that coin of his is back and he toys with it anxiously. I’d let him be, but there’s a question I need answered. ‘So who’s this Stiv Kay?’ I ask. ‘Sounds like you two got a history.’

“Thane’s fist closes tightly around the coin and he nods. ‘Kay and I worked a job together, some thirteen years ago,’ he says quietly. ‘It was before I left the Compact; in fact, rather early in my career. The Illuminated Primacy had made a backroom deal with a human shadow organization called Cerberus, to eliminate an asari demagogue whose views, though gaining in popularity, were seen by both as… problematic.

“‘I was very young, only sixteen years old, but already beginning to make a name for myself, and the job was regarded as fairly routine. So when Cerberus and the Primacy decided that each would send one assassin and the two would work as a team, my handler gave me the assignment. Cerberus sent Kay.’

“He shakes his head. ‘Kay was older and far more experienced than I, and used to working alone. I think he resented having to share the assignment, especially with an “upstart child,” to use his words. But he was as loyal to Cerberus as I was to the hanar, and made an effort to swallow his pride long enough to get the job done.’

“‘So what happened?’ I ask. ‘You seemed surprised he’s not dead.’

“‘The mission went… poorly,’ he admits, and his eyes go wide and unfocused as his perfect memory takes over. _‘The matriarch’s neck snaps, and she slumps dead at my feet. Footsteps outside the door. She must have triggered a silent alarm. I leap for the air vent, but too late. The door slides open and three asari commandos charge in. They see me and start shooting. “I told you we should’ve just shot her from the balcony, Krios,” Kay hisses as he pulls me up. The commandos’ bullets follow us as we flee, punching through the ceiling and the duct’s thin walls. One hits me in the leg, and I falter and cry out. Kay stops and looks back, and the next one takes his eye.’_ He coughs once as he brings himself back to the present, and looks down at his hands, fiddling with the coin again. ‘It shames me to confess that I panicked. I thought Kay was dead. I left him, and barely escaped with my own life.’ Looking up at me again, he says, ‘I was indeed surprised to learn that he lives, and more so that he’d be working for the batarians. But he evidently harbors sufficient ill will toward me to put aside his… _biases_ for a time.’ That last comes out with a sneer.

“He’s givin’ me chills at this point, guys. You shoulda seen the look on his face. I thought I’d gotten to know him pretty well by now, but… I barely recognized the kid.  I searched his eyes for the Thane I knew, but all I could see was a cold-blooded killer.

“He was gonna end Stiv Kay, all right. Thing is, I was afraid it’d be the end of him, too.

“I knew better than to say anything, though. It wouldn’t have made a difference. He wasn’t gonna be stopped, not now. Not for anything. So all I could do was help where I could. ‘So, what’s this guy look like?’ I ask. ‘We’ll have a better chance at catchin’ him with two pairs of eyes in the game.’

“‘He’s human,’ says Thane. ‘Around fifty years old. Pale. Bald. He may be missing an eye, or have a cybernetic one. He may be wearing a hooded cloak and carrying a long knife or short sword.’ The shuttle pulls to a stop. ‘But the first thing we’ll need to do is determine which ships are going to Kahje. That will narrow the search.’

“We get off the shuttle, and now we’re racing the clock. Lockdown’s been lifted, and it won’t be long before passengers can board their ships. ‘I’ll see if I can hack into the passenger manifests,’ I say. ‘You might wanna get yourself a good vantage point. I’ll keep in radio contact and let you know what I find.’

“He nods. ‘A sound plan.’

“As I turn to the nearest computer terminal and start digging, I hear Thane murmur something under his breath. _‘Amonkira, Lord of Hunters,’_ he says, _‘grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift. And should… should the worst come to pass…’_

“He trails off, and when I turn to look back at him, he’s gone.”

* * *

_“Grant me forgiveness,”_ Suvi whispered.

Drack blinked as all eyes turned to her. “What’s that?”

Suvi swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. “The Hunter’s Invocation,” she explained in a shaky voice. “That’s how it ends. _And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness.”_

“But he couldn’t do it, could he? Ask for forgiveness.” Lexi asked sadly. “Oh, Drack… what did he _do?”_

Drack grimaced into his tankard. “Trust me, I’m gettin’ there.”

* * *

“Anyway, it’s not long before I find the intel I’m lookin’ for. I radio Thane. ‘Hey, kid, I got it. The only ship headed for Kahje is the _Morning Star._ Docking Bay 2.’

“A terse _‘Acknowledged,’_ is all the answer I get.

“So I make my way to Bay 2 as quick as I can without attracting too much attention. It’s crowded, everyone pushin’ and shovin’ and impatient after being kept waiting. I keep an eye out for anyone who fits the description Thane gave me. It ain’t easy—even though it’d been less than twenty years since first contact, humans were already _everywhere._ Dressed all kinds o’ ways, too: cloaks, armor, uniforms, civvies, whatever. And I swear you guys come in more colors than just about any other species in the galaxy. At least the hairless ones were few and far between, so far as I could tell, but any kind of headgear made even that guesswork at best.

“Finally, though, I spot a suspect. ‘You got eyes on me, kid?’ I ask.

_“‘Yes.’_

“‘On my three o’clock, about four meters out,’ I tell him. ‘Dark red hood.’

“There’s a pause as he finds the guy, then a sharp hiss of indrawn breath. _‘It’s him.’_ Thane’s voice is flat and tightly controlled, but the absolute hatred in it makes my skin crawl. Still does, just thinkin’ about it.

“To be fair, Kay ain’t the most wholesome-lookin’ character, either. Thane was right about the cybernetic eye—it glows red from under his hood. He’s so pale, almost gray, he looks sickly. And he’s grinnin’ like he’s damn pleased with himself, probably thinkin’ he’s gonna escape to Kahje unscathed.

“As I watch, the red dot of Thane’s targeting laser appears on Kay’s forehead, and my radio crackles. _‘Pretend to help him,’_ Thane hisses.

“That wasn’t part of the plan, of course. ‘What?’ I demand.

 _“‘I’m sending you coordinates. Tell him it’s a med clinic and bring him there. I’ll be waiting.’_ His tone of voice brooks absolutely no argument.

“Before I can ask what he’s doing, my omni-tool chirps, coordinates received. A second later, the laser dot jerks downward and a shot rings out. Someone screams, the crowd parts, and Kay goes down with a bullet in his gut.

“I just stand there in shock for a second. It hadn’t occurred to me that Thane would get the drop on Kay and actually let him _live._ But then I realized what he probably meant to do, and my stomach turned.

“But I didn’t dare question him. No, I do as I’m told. I run up to Kay like a concerned bystander and reach down to him. ‘Shit, that looks bad,’ I say. ‘Lemme get you some help.’

“He sneers at me, all condescending even as he writhes on the floor. ’I don’t need your help, _krogan,’_ he spits, making the word sound like a curse, but his voice is hoarse with pain.

“I shrug. ‘Okay. Bleed out here, then, no skin off my hump. But this is Omega, buddy. Ain’t no one else gonna help you.’

“Kay glares up at me, then grabs my hand and hauls himself to his feet. He stumbles, can’t stand on his own, and I catch him. There’s blood trickling through his fingers where he’s pressing his hand to the wound. ‘Yeah, I thought so,’ I say. ‘There’s a clinic nearby. I’ll take you. No need to thank me.’ The words taste sour on my tongue.

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Stiv Kay was an evil bastard, no doubt about it. I’m not sayin’ he didn’t deserve everything that was comin’ his way. But to be the one to drag him off to face it… well, I guess I had my own penance to serve, didn’t I?

“Anyway, I get him to Thane’s coordinates—an empty storage room down a deserted corridor—and he finally realizes he’s been had when the door slides open and Thane is there, dagger in hand and something worse than murder in his eyes. ‘I should’ve known,’ Kay hisses at me as I shove him inside. He stumbles against a wall and slides to the floor, looks up at Thane, and, guys, I swear he _laughs._ ‘So, you got me, Krios,’ he rasps. ‘But I have to tell you, doin’ your little woman—I’m not usually into aliens, but oh, she was sweet. Her taste… was worth whatever you’re going to do to me, and more!’

“Thane doesn’t move, but the hand holding the knife tightens ’til his knuckles turn white. ‘Drack,’ he says, so soft I can barely hear him, ‘guard the door.’

“He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I don’t wanna see this.

“The door slides shut, and I can’t make out any more words. But this room isn’t sound-dampened like Skell’s lab. I can hear all too clearly as Kay’s bitter, defiant laughter mutates into a sickening shriek.

“The sounds go on for what seems like forever. And it’s even worse knowing that every scream, every whimper, every howl of agony from Kay has its echo in Thane. No, _is_ the echo of Thane’s, and a dim one. I realize that what I’m hearing is one voice screaming out two men’s pain. This is the revenge Thane’s been after, and it’ll never, ever be enough.

“And then… just when I think it can’t go on any longer… there’s another sound. Another voice, a voice I almost don’t recognize, raised in a howl that makes my blood run cold, a cry so full of despair and agony it made all that had come before it pale in comparison. I felt it like a knife to the gut, and I turned and burst through the door before I really knew what I was doing.

“I was just in time to see Thane plunge his dagger into Kay’s throat.

“I won’t describe what was left of Kay as the last of the life gurgled out of him. But Thane… something in him died at that moment, too, I think. I could see it in his eyes. That vengeful fire, that murderous drive was just… gone. Burned out. There was nothing there but… but cold ashes.

“Sorry. I get flowery when I’m drunk.

“Anyway, Thane just watches with this icy, dispassionate stare as Kay finally falls still and silent. Then he yanks his blade free, wipes it clean on Kay’s cloak, and strides from the room without meeting my eyes.

“I hurry after him. ‘What, no “prayers for the wicked” this time?’ I ask before I can stop myself.

“He stops suddenly, but doesn’t turn to me. ‘The simply wicked may yet be saved,’ he says quietly, tonelessly. ‘The same cannot be said for the utterly damned.’

“I didn’t ask who he was talking about this time. I think I was afraid to hear his answer.”


	15. Catechism and Confession

“He got him!” Peebee blew out a breath and slumped back in her chair. “He finally got the bastard.”

“Indeed,” Jaal rumbled thoughtfully. “But that conclusion was not as… satisfying as I had anticipated.”

Drack drained the last of his drink and smacked the empty tankard back down on the table with a loud thud. “Revenge never is,” he grunted.

“I’ll drink to that,” murmured Lexi. Then, when all eyes turned to her in surprise, she said a little defensively, “What? Drack’s not the only one here with stories.”

“Heh-heh-heh. Yeah, you’ve been around a bit longer than the rest o’ these young’uns, too, haven’t you, Doc?” Drack chuckled. “Bet you got a couple good yarns, too.”

Raising his glass in Lexi’s direction, Liam said with a grin, “That settles it. Next time, it’s your turn.”

“Wait!” Ryder cried. “That’s not it, is it, Drack?”

“Yeah, please tell us you know what happened to Thane after that,” said Gil. “You can’t just leave it there!”

Cora nodded. “You didn’t leave _him_ there, did you?”

“What kinda friend do you think I am?” Drack demanded with an indignant scowl. “No, we didn’t part ways just yet. I thought the worst was over for the poor kid, but I figured I’d at least see him home to Kahje.”

Ryder raised a worried eyebrow. “You _thought?_ You mean it gets worse?”

Drack grimaced. “None o’ you are parents, are you?” His gaze swept the table as everyone shook their heads, the same sinking feeling that seized Ryder’s gut written on all their faces. But he stopped when his eyes fell on Vetra. “You got a kid sister you’re lookin’ after, right? What would you do to keep her safe?”

Vetra’s mandibles flared. “Anything,” she growled fiercely.

The old krogan speared her with a hard stare. “Even if it meant leaving her?” When his only answer was wide-eyed silence, he continued relentlessly, “Imagine _not_ being able to protect her. Imagine realizing that she could never, ever be safe, so long as she was with you. Just imagine feelin’ like you had to cut yourself out of her life, _for her own good.”_

After a moment’s stunned silence, Vetra swore under her breath. _“Spirits.”_

* * *

“Yeah.

“The trip back to Kahje was long and quiet. I catch Thane toying with that coin more than a few times, rubbin’ his thumb over the face stamped on one side—I think it was supposed to be Arashu, another drell Goddess. He spends a good part of the trip prayin’ to Her, anyway. In fact, I think he has more to say to Arashu than to me. I can only hope She has as much to say to him.

“But lookin’ at his face… makes me think She probably doesn’t.

“We take our leave of each other at the spaceport. ‘You gonna be okay, kid?’ I ask.

“He gives me a long stare, and the expression on his face is… hard to describe. Then he looks down. He takes a breath, hesitates, and I think he’s about to hand me some polite, reassuring lie. But then he says truthfully, ‘I don’t… I don’t know.’ He meets my eyes again, and reaches out to shake my hand. ‘Thank you, Drack. For everything.’

“‘Any time, kid,’ I say, and I mean it. ‘You need anything, you call me, okay? Anything.’ He just nods, and I clap him on the back. ‘Now go home to your boy.’

“I hang around Kahje for a few days after that. Thought about leavin’, tryin’ to get the salvaging thing started again, but… something held me back. A nagging sort of feeling. Not really sure what it was that made me stay, but it turned out to be a good thing I did.

“So one day I find myself outside a drell temple to the Old Gods, and all I can think about is Thane and all the times he prayed—and the one time he didn’t. And I thought that if he’d found so much comfort in his religion, maybe… I don’t know. Maybe it was just curiosity. I knew a little, very little, about the Gods of the drell, but I’d never given much thought to really learning about their faith. I didn’t know if I’d be welcome there, but I went in anyway. Figured if I wasn’t allowed, I’d just apologize and leave.

“But there was hardly anyone inside. Coupla drell in robes—priestesses, I think—tending to candles and incense burners, one older guy in street clothes sitting on a bench in front of one of three big statues, meditating or something. That was about it.

“Even as unsettled as I felt, the place had a calming kind of effect. The only light was from the candles and what sunshine came through the stained-glass windows, and the incense gave the air a spicy kind of smell and a little bit of haze. It was an entirely different world from outside, and I wondered how much of it was how it used to be on Rakhana.

“I sat down on an empty bench and stared up at the statue in front of me. One Goddess or the other, I wasn’t sure which, carved out of a reddish stone. She stared out toward the horizon, Her expression fierce. One arm cradled Her pregnant belly, the other held a carved shield, and there were two spears strapped to Her back. Kind of an odd image, I think. Makes me wonder what the mythology is like, and how old the stories are.

“But then I see movement out the corner of my eye, and turn to see one of the priestesses sitting next to me. ‘We see few enough of our own people here,’ she says. ‘It’s rarer still to find an alien in our midst.’

“Thinking I’m intruding or something, I stand up leave. ‘Sorry. I’ll be on my way.’

“But the priestess stops me with a hand on my arm. ‘No, please, you’re welcome to stay. The hanar have made the drell welcome on Kahje, but we are still a displaced people. It would be ungrateful of us to be insular.’ She smiles warmly at me. ‘However, I must admit to curiosity. What brings a krogan to our temple?’

“I sit back down and stare up at the statue. ‘Well, I’m not much for religion, myself,’ I tell her, ‘but I got this friend who’s pretty devout. I guess I’m worried about him. He’s been through a lotta bad shit, and… I think this is what kept him going.’ I shrug. ‘I’m just tryin’ to… understand him a little better? Y’know, so maybe I don’t have to worry so much.’ I wave a hand at the statue in front of us. ‘So, which one’s that?’

“The priestess eyes me thoughtfully, then looks up at the statue. ‘This image represents Arashu,’ she says reverently, ‘Goddess of motherhood and protection.’

“Something angry came over me then. ‘Well, I sure as hell would like to have a word or two with Her,’ I growl. ‘My buddy coulda used some of that “protection” not long ago. Or his wife could have, when some batarian assholes sent an assassin after her. Or his kid, who had to watch his _mother_ die.’ The man meditating on the other statue—process of elimination, gotta be Kalahira—glances our way, and I suddenly realize how loud I was getting. I lower my voice some. ‘Or the little human boy on Omega, who got shot dead just ’cause he was with us. Where was Arashu when they needed Her?’

“The priestess tilts her head curiously. ‘A strange question from a self-described nonbeliever.’

“‘Let’s say I’m asking for my friend,’ I snap.

“She studies me for a long moment, and a shadow of sadness crosses her face. ‘I asked the same thing, once,’ she says. ‘I had a daughter. Deora. She was the joy of my life. But Kalahira called to her from an early age, and she died of Kepral’s Syndrome when she was only seven years old.’ She shakes her head. ‘How I ranted and railed to Arashu! I questioned Her, accused Her, cursed Her name. And for Kalahira, I had no words at all.’ Her face darkens. ‘Not from this side of the sea.’

“I’m about to ask her what she means by that, but it dawns on me before I can say anything. ‘You were gonna…’

“The priestess nods. ‘I felt I had nothing left. Deora’s father had crossed the sea long before. I had few friends, and none close. I thought the Gods had abandoned me. I wanted to march into Their realm and shake my fist in Their faces.’

“‘What stopped you?’ I ask.

“‘Nothing.’ She holds out her hands and pushes up her sleeves to show me the scars on her wrists where the scales had grown back all crooked and uneven. ‘I did it right here before the shrine of Arashu, to spit in Her face one last time. If one of the acolytes hadn’t found me at just the right moment, I would have died in this very spot.’ She folds her hands again. ‘The priests here took me in and nursed me back to health. They helped me through my grief, and I eventually joined their order. In time, the memories of Deora began to bring me joy instead of pain. But it did take time.’

“She stands, and so do I. ‘I don’t think that’s the advice you thought you were looking for, coming here,’ she says, ‘but there it is, nevertheless. Please, check on your friend. He may need you now more than ever.’

“So as I’m leaving, I dash off a quick message to Thane: _‘Hey, kid, just wanted to check in before I head offworld. Hope you and Kolyat are doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.’_

“I figure he’s gonna be too wrapped up in patchin’ up his family to answer right away. But it’s only a few minutes before my omni-tool pings. It’s a response from Thane: just an address, and the words _‘Please hurry.’”_


	16. Contemplation and Contrition

“Yeah, you better believe I booked it. I messaged Thane back to let him know I was coming, but man, did my imagination run wild on me ’til I got there. All of a sudden, I remembered Deena begging me, _Just don’t let him do anything rash._ And if he was thinkin’ what I thought he was thinkin’… well…

“The address brings me to a house—Thane’s, I assume—that looks out over the ocean. I arrive to find the front door unlocked, but there’s no answer when I knock, so I go in. ‘Thane?’ I call out. ‘You still with me, kid?’

“He still doesn’t answer, which worries me, big time. I start to look around, but it looks like nobody’s home. Doesn’t sit right at all. I’m gettin’ more and more nervous as I go from room to empty room, until I finally spot him out back on a balcony, leaning on the railing and staring out over the water. And he’s got that coin in his hand again.

“‘There you are,’ I say, and I’m practically sick with relief.

“‘Here I am,’ he murmurs absently. He doesn’t turn around. ‘You came.’ The only emotion in his voice is the barest hint of surprise.

“‘Of course I came!’ I protest. ‘Didja really think I wouldn’t?’

“His only response is a halfhearted shrug.

“‘So, what’s goin’ on?’ I ask. ‘Are you okay? How’s Kolyat?’

“He flinches at his son’s name. Just a little, but just enough that I notice.

“Of course, I’m thinkin’ the worst. ‘Thane? _Where’s_ Kolyat?’ I’m almost afraid to ask.

“His response is so quiet I can barely hear him. ‘He is with Kaedi. Where he will remain.’

“Yeah, exactly. ‘Whaddaya mean, “where he will remain?”’ I demand. ‘I thought the whole point of our little road trip was to…’ I trail off as an awful thought hits me. _‘Shit._ Did something happen to them?’

“‘No,’ he says flatly, and I relax a little.

“But he doesn’t elaborate. ‘Come on, talk to me, kid,’ I say. He turns his face away as I come up to stand next to him. ‘What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?’

“Now he does look at me, and his eyes are… haunted, I guess is the word. _‘Nicolas_ is the matter,’ he says. His voice is hoarse. ‘That innocent boy was killed simply because he was with us. With me. To get _my_ attention.’ He shakes his head, and looks back out over the ocean. ‘This entire… _incident…_ it isn’t the first time my life has been threatened. It’s an… occupational hazard. But it is the first time my family has been targeted, and I fear it will not be the last. I… I’m _terrified_ it will not be the last. Kolyat would not… he would not be safe in my care.’ He takes a shaky breath and bows his head. ‘If I’m to be honest, Kolyat will never be truly safe until I… until I’m…’

“Of course, this is exactly what I was afraid of. ‘Hey now,’ I growl. I grab him by the shoulder and force him to turn around and face me. ‘Don’t you go talkin’ like that. Don’t you dare!’

“He doesn’t meet my eyes at first. ‘Drack… there’s nothing left for me here,’ he says softly. ‘Irikah is gone. Those responsible are dead. I must abandon my son for his own sake. And I have nothing to look forward to but perhaps ten years of slow deterioration as my illness inevitably progresses.’ When he finally looks up, there’s tears on his face. ‘Give me a reason,’ he begs. ‘Just give me one reason.’

“Do any of you guys know what total loss of hope looks like? ’Cause I do. And how do you reassure a man who’s just lost everything that ever mattered to him?

“But I had to say something. I wasn’t about to stand by and watch him take his own life. ‘Way I see it,’ I say, ‘just the fact that you’re askin’ me for a reason? That oughta be reason enough. You don’t really want to die, kid. You wouldn’t have called me if you did.’

“He closes his eyes. ‘Perhaps… perhaps I simply didn’t want to die alone.’

“I can tell that’s not true, though. ‘Look, Thane,’ I say as gently as I can. ‘I know you don’t got a whole lotta time left. But… d’you really think she’d want you to throw it all away?’ Yeah, I know it’s a cliché, but it’s the best I could do.

“‘…No,’ he whispers. ‘She wouldn’t.’ He looks down at the coin again, studies it for a long moment. ‘I was given over to the Compact at the age of six,’ he says, and his voice is almost expressionless. ‘I knew nothing else, until I met Irikah. And so when I convinced the hanar to release me so we could marry… it was as unnerving as it was liberating. She gave me this coin one night when that anxiety drove me from our bed in the small hours of the morning. It was her father’s; he used to say that rubbing it brought him peace of mind. She thought it might do the same for me.

“‘Of course, it was merely superstition, but it had great sentimental value to her. That she would give it to me was nothing short of astonishing. I have treasured it ever since, as a means of… of keeping some small piece of her with me, even when we were parted. It has gained… additional significance since her death.’ He turns back to the railing and holds the coin out over the water. ‘But we all must walk the paths we are given,’ he murmurs, as much to himself as to me, and it sounds like he’s repeating something he was told long ago. And he lets the coin slip from his fingers.

“He turns back to face me, and it’s like a huge weight’s been lifted off him. Not in a good way—it’s more like his anchor’s been severed. He’s not so much unburdened as… drifting. The look on his face is one of weariness and resignation. ‘Drack,’ he says, ‘I must thank you once again. You have saved my life on more than one occasion, not the least of which was today. I shall endeavor to make it one… worth saving.’ He reaches out to shake my hand. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

“That was the last I saw of him for ten years.”

* * *

“Ten years?” Ryder demanded. “You didn’t try to stay in touch?”

Drack grunted. “Thane was a master at flyin’ under the radar. I sent him a few messages, but I never heard back. Eventually stopped tryin’. After a few years, I figured either his Kepral’s or one of his contracts finally got the better of him.” He shrugged. “You live as long as I have, you kinda get used to it. But then one day, a couple of months before we left, I got a letter.”

Cora’s eyebrows shot up. “From Thane?”

“From Thane,” Drack confirmed. “It said—here, I saved it. Lemme pull it up an’ I’ll let you read it.”

The crew gathered around the old krogan as he activated his omni-tool and opened the letter.

 _Drack,_ it began,

_I pray this letter finds you well, my friend. As for myself, I fear I am not—my final days are upon me, and I find myself living on borrowed time._

_Though we have lost touch in the years since, it is still with gratitude that I look back on our travels together. You helped me in my darkest days, and thus far I have been unable to repay that very great debt. Please allow me to do so now._

_By now, you may have heard of the Andromeda Initiative, a massive project spearheaded by the Systems Alliance that aims to send colonists on a bold journey across dark space. I have attached all the relevant literature for your perusal, and I implore you to consider joining them. A great darkness threatens this galaxy, like a mighty hammer suspended over all our heads, and I would rest easier knowing you are safe when it falls._

_Ah. Perhaps my motivation is not entirely selfless, after all._

_Nevertheless, I do hope you choose to go to Andromeda—it sounds like an adventure more than worthy of your warrior spirit. And it would please me greatly if, before you depart, you would come and visit me. I will be at Huerta Memorial Hospital on the Citadel from now on, under that old alias you saw right through when first we met._

_I would very much like to see you again, if only to thank you one last time, and to say goodbye._

_Thane_

* * *

“I booked passage to the Citadel the same day, and I fretted for the whole trip. What he’d written about bein’ on ‘borrowed time’ had me worried I might not get there in time. But when I got there, and found him at the hospital, he seemed to be doing… surprisingly okay.

“Seems a lot of things had gone right for him recently. You all remember that big to-do with Commander Shepard and Cerberus, savin’ the galaxy from the Collectors? Turns out Thane was part o’ that crew. And somewhere along the way, he’d got back in touch with Kolyat, too. Things were kinda rocky between them, but they were gettin’ there.

“Heh-heh-heh, and he had some damn good stories of his own, too, about the other folks on the _Normandy._ Couple names you mighta heard: Garrus Vakarian, Tali’Zorah vas Neema, Joker Moreau. And there were some other colorful characters on that crew, too: an asari Justicar, a thief, a little biotic firecracker named Jack, and—I shit you not—a geth. Yeah, you heard me. I think they called it Legion.

“And Grunt! ‘You would have liked Grunt,’ Thane tells me. ‘He’s a young krogan, tank-bred by the warlord Okeer, and later accepted into Clan Urdnot. Commander Shepard and I had the honor of being his krantt for his Rite of Passage. We took down a thresher maw on foot—it was quite an experience.’ He smiles fondly. ‘As it happens, Drack, you’re no longer the only krogan to whom I owe my life multiple times over.’ His eyes get that familiar distant look, and he launches into another memory.

_“‘We’re under attack. I scope in on a Collector Guardian across the battlefield. Suddenly, my line of sight is blocked—a Drone rises up in front of me. It shoots from point-blank range. Automatic fire tears through my shields, knocks me down. The impact makes me cough, and intense pain flares in my right shoulder. I’m hit, bleeding out._

_“‘Shepard sees me go down. He fires at the Drone, misses. The creature prepares to finish me—and suddenly explodes in a cloud of ash. Grunt stands over me, holding the remaining Collectors at bay. “Get to cover! I can’t keep them off you forever!” I manage to drag myself to relative safety.’_ He smiles ruefully, unconsciously rubbing at his shoulder. ‘Not my finest hour, I’m afraid,’ he says with a chuckle.

“‘Hey, we can’t all be krogan, am I right?’ I tease. But then I stop smiling, ’cause I got something important I have to tell him. ’Cause I know if I don’t do it now, I’ll never have the chance again. ‘Thane,’ I say, ‘I got a confession to make.’

“He frowns. ‘A confession?’

“‘Something I shoulda told you years ago.’ I take a deep breath, and I can’t look him in the eyes. ‘It was me. I’m the one who gave the Shadow Broker the information that led him to you. If I hadn’t—’ I stop suddenly and look up at him, ’cause I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Gently, quietly, Thane is _laughing._

“‘I know,’ he says. ‘I’ve known since we left Illium, Drack. And I forgave you a long time ago.’

“‘You mean I’ve been haulin’ around a guilty conscience for ten years—for nothing?’ I growl, half kidding. ‘But, seriously, kid. Not that I ain’t glad to hear it, but… why? Why would you just forgive me for that?’

“‘You’re a poor dissembler, Drack,’ he says wryly. ‘It’s the surest sign of an honest man.’

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. ‘Uh… thanks?’

“‘Your behavior was strange when we met on Anhur,’ he explains, ‘and something you said on Illium all but confirmed my suspicions. When I expressed disbelief that Orander would have betrayed me, you said, _“Maybe he just got too trusting with someone he shouldn’t.”’_

“I remembered that. And I remembered the way he’d stared at me afterward. ‘So you contacted him.’

“He nods. ‘I contacted him. And he told me exactly what information he’d leaked, and to whom.’

“‘And you weren’t… angry?’

“He sighs a little and bows his head. ‘On the contrary, I confess that for a moment I was prepared to murder you in your sleep. But when I forced myself to think rationally, I found myself more saddened than angered. The Broker would have found the information one way or another, and you had no way to guess what he would do with it. And it was no great leap of logic to conclude that you were helping me as a way to make amends. Even in my… emotionally compromised state, I could appreciate that.’

“I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I said, ‘Well, for what it’s worth… I’m sorry.’

“I think he’s about to say something, but a sudden coughing fit doubles him over. It’s bad. He can barely catch a breath, and I can tell he’s in pain just lookin’ at him. I call for a doctor, and she tries to shoo me out of the room when she arrives. But Thane manages to call out to me before I go. ‘Drack,’ he croaks. ‘Andromeda?’

“I nod. ‘I’m going, kid.’

“And then the door closes in my face.”


	17. Epilogue: Catalexis

“He’d’ve hated that that’s my last memory of him,” Drack grunted. “And to be honest, I hate the thought of him just wastin’ away in that hospital. It’s not how he’d’ve wanted to go out. But there you have it.”

“I’m just trying to decide if that counts as a happy ending or not,” said Vetra.

“I know what you mean,” Lexi concurred, shaking her head. “It sounds like he eventually got some closure on things, but still—Kepral’s Syndrome is an awful way to die.”

“Happy ending or not, it feels more like a cliffhanger to me,” grumbled Liam.

Drack glared at him. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint your _literary_ expectations,” he growled, “but real life don’t always wrap up nice and neat.”

“True, that,” said Ryder thoughtfully. She stared into her cup, reflecting. It had been so easy to look at Drack’s story as just that—a story, with a plot and characters. But reading that letter, seeing Thane’s own words set out in front of her in that voice that had become so familiar, had driven home the fact that this had been a real person, not just a character, and the events Drack was describing had actually happened. The thought twisted something in her gut, something sad and uneasy, that even the knowledge that these events were six hundred years in the past couldn’t soothe.

She could see that same disquiet written on all the faces around her. Needing a way to lighten the mood, she raised her glass. “I propose a toast,” she announced. “To Thane Krios: may he…” What was it his asari friend Deena had said? “May he rest in Kalahira’s embrace.”

“Hear, hear!” replied Cora heartily, and the others chimed in as well.

“Thanks, guys,” said Drack with a faint smile. “I think he’d appreciate that.”

Lexi patted his arm affectionately. “And thank _you_ for sharing the story with us.”

“There is one more thing that bothers me, though,” Peebee interjected. “What about that ‘great darkness’ he mentioned in his letter? The ‘mighty hammer suspended over all our heads?’ What was that all about?”

Drack grimaced and shook his head. “That’s the biggest regret I have about that last conversation. I was so wrapped up in making my big confession… I forgot to ask.”


End file.
